Izevel
by Nova.8
Summary: Across the boundaries of time and space an immortal soul, once wronged seeks payment in kind. Fate choses Bulma and Vegeta to overcome a love that is old while fighting for a love that is new. However the odds seem to be stacked against them, almost as if the fiendish, friend Fate wants them to fail ... (AU: Rated M; Dark story not for the faint of heart. You've been warned!)
1. Chapter 1

Hi all you wonderful BV fans. In light of trying to reignite my flickering writing spark I decided to check out the ongoing challenges on the brilliant We're Just Saiyan community. This has therefore been inspired by the Royal Challenge. I'm not sure if I will be submitting it in but I will use their well thought out prompts for inspiration.

This story will be rather dark but if you've read Revenge: AER, it is completely different because Bulma and Vegeta will be on the same side here. However, please note the rating is M. This will be a short story of exactly 5 chapters with a word count ranging from 3 – 10k for each chapter.

So while writing this I realised that the Bulma here could be related to Jezebel and on further research I decided to use some Jezebel references to strengthen the plot of this story. Not that Bulma will possess any of the more adulteress, murderous traits but rather for her beauty and seductive appeal to make sense for some Saiyans. It will make sense after the Prologue. Things to know: Jezebel is the Anglicized transliteration of the Hebrew Izevel. _The Oxford Guide to People &amp; Places of the Bible_ states that "the name is best understood to mean 'Where is the Prince?'." Fitting, don't you think? Thank the Lord for Google.

**Prompt:** Bloody Battles

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own DBZ of course. This should suffice for the duration of the story.

**WARNINGS:** Bad language, blood, violence, character death, scenes of a sexual nature, mentions of rape. A concerted effort has been made to avoid crudity however if you are a sensitive reader, this one is not for you.

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**Bloody Battles**

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_**Prologue**_

Death was easy.

Izevel could live beyond death, she was an ancient Jin after all. An angel who had left the secure folds of heaven as she descended upon the mortal world. She had sacrificed it all for love. As of course there was nothing more powerful than love.

She had been wrong.

The Saiya-jins were murderous. Menacing. Merciless. They believed not in love, they believed in none of the emotions they so mercurially shut their hearts against. They knew only power in taking what they wanted with brute strength and violent force. Izevel had been duty bound to Earth, helping human beings with righteousness. Then the Saiya-jins came and Izevel had slowly lost herself to a young Saiya-jin.

She had been enamoured by Prince Vejita, falling prey to the lust he so inspired within her. He wooed her with his contradicting traits. His kindness in his brutality, softness against his hardness and empathy in his disdain. Vejita had begged her to come to him, to be with him with the promise of forever. Izevel had willingly given in.

Prince Vejita had broken tradition, old archaic laws, regulations and went against every one of his ancestors to mate with Izevel. They had been happy for sparse moments in time. Short bursts of wondrous thrills that made them giddy with pleasure.

Then _he_ had come. The almighty King Vejita. He had wanted to break his young son's spirit and so he took the beautiful Jin for himself. The King used many of his most loyal men to restrain the young Prince, forcing Vejita to watch in horror as his father raped his mate. Izevel, in a moment of rage and despair had slit the King's neck while he was lost in his climax, his seconds of weakness.

Prince Vejita had finally used his rage to break free from the holds of his stunned captors. He took Izevel with him and they left for another Planet. Yet soon Vejita's love began to wither, the scene of his father raping her turned him bitter against Izevel. He could no longer touch her without seeing her beneath The late King, and soon his longing started to consume him. Filled with rage and anger he could handle it no longer when Izevel began to swell with a child.

His powerful love had turned into a fierce hatred that burned within him. He had dragged Izevel back to Vejita-sei where he claimed to see the error of his ways, sacrificing Izevel to reclaim his throne. She was strung up by her hands and legs her sea green hair failing to hide her naked body as she was burned alive.

They were foolish creatures though. Simple. Undeserving. They knew not of ancient kind and the wrath of the Gods above them. They believed not in Karma or Kismet. Retribution and destiny. They set too much store by their strength alone. And for that, they would repent, one day. Her body may have been mortal yet the soul that resided within her flesh was immortal.

Izevel closed her emerald green eyes and whispered on her last breaths, "I, an old Angel chosen to forfeit thy immortal life for the power of Love hereby declare my soul an everlasting gift to Fate. And there will come a day where Fate will intervene and Love will rise to conquer these brute forces that know you not. Every Vejita will know only servitude on these mortal plains until one of your sons learns true, unconditional love …"

Soon, Vejita's in different Universes, times and worlds died alone; bitter and resentful. Unfulfilled and unloved.

However, souls knew no boundaries. They were not confined to the limits of time and so they drifted outside the barriers that separated the worlds from each other until fate gave it a worthy home.

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Death was easy.

That was what Vegeta thought as he gave a humourless chuckle through swollen lips. The wheezy sound passed through a mouth where many teeth were missing. He closed his heavy lids, rimmed black and blue from strong fists and took in a deep breath. It hurt to breathe, he was certain his lungs were punctured from his broken ribs. He knew if he did not get into regen tank this instant, he would die.

His latest enemy was merciless. A brute who took betrayal to his cold, bitter, blackened heart. His father. The almighty King Vegeta had beaten his son to within an inch of his life. His only son. His pride and joy. His successor. The boy he had mentored from birth to take his place when he could no longer be King or when Vegeta surpassed him.

It seemed that it would not come to pass. Prince Vegeta would die at the hands of his father. For his father's touch had him lying on the ground like a pitiful dog, waiting for death to claim him, for surely death was easier than this life.

Vegeta smirked. He would die with his lips curved in a last moment of defiance. He would give all that he had. This would be the point of no return he knew it, and for once, he did not care. He would give all his momentous pride, his throne, his people to escape this world. For the chance to have the last laugh at his father.

Of course he would see her again, he would be with her again while his father stayed here with the knowledge that his son had ousted him in a way that was emasculating. His son would forever be the better Saiyan.

"She prefered me so much more than you father." Vegeta's chuckles turned into wracking coughs as blood clogged his throat. He would persevere though. So he swallowed the metallic taste of his own blood and the thick bile clumped there, pushing words from his lips.

"Shut up!" The King roared. His loud booming voice laced with so much bitter anger and volumes of rage.

The King kicked Vegeta and he flew against a wall. Still he got to his knees with one arm wrapped around his waist, his other hand dragging uselessly at his side. He spat more blood from his mouth before he looked up at his father. His fathomless black eyes glaring menacingly at the man who had sired him.

"She did father. All those times I fucked her she would scream my name and I knew father, I knew that even though we shared the same name, she had never put that much passion into that one word." Vegeta taunted. Surely he could have the last laugh by riling up his father.

The King grabbed his son's hair, the same thick flame that could have been his if Vegeta's was not a dark black. His tanned skin was red from rage and his mind screamed at him to end his son's life. To kill the brat for such outright deceit against his own father. His knuckles hurt from cracking into his son's bones, his own body not completely unscathed he knew. His son was a worthy opponent, yet even Vegeta could not take on an army of Saiyans all by himself.

"You have fought valiantly son." The King said in a voice that could have been mistaken for proud had he not been holding his bloody son in a vulnerable position, waiting to deliver his final blow. "However you can not be forgiven for your transgressions. You have finally gone too far."

Vegeta could see rage burning within his father's dark brown eyes as the older Saiyan remembered Vegeta's actions for the past six months.

"Do it." Vegeta dared as his onyx eyes whirred with the very memories that were playing in his father's eyes. He would die with those very thoughts on his mind and one word on his lips.

_Bulma_

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_**Chapter One**_

Bulma.

She was a Goddess sent to this world for the soul satisfaction of being loved. Her beauty ensnared the brilliant senses of the best of men, causing them an endless stupor of sheer lust. Her blue hair flowed around her heart shaped face. Big, blue eyes entrancing anyone it set it sights upon. Bee stung lips that called to a man to kiss, were unwillingly addictive. Lush curves set beneath pearlescent skin that would put the finest silk to shame. No man could deny her beauty, none could ignore her body and all wanted to indulge in her.

Men would pay for her, fight for her … kill for her.

And he was no different. They wondered, his faithful people, whether she was a witch who had cast a spell upon him. Bewitched him. For surely she could not be a mere human being. What would he, the strongest warrior in the Universe see in such a weak creature? His prowess should be immune to such foolish endeavours like lust. So it made sense that she had powers unknown to them all. For the human race was not one they were familiar with. Even if she looked similar to their kind, she would never be theres and he was their King.

Vegeta.

He had killed his own wife after she had failed to deliver their second son. He was a possessive, jealous Saiyan. One of the worst in a land full of raging apes. She knew though she had no choice in the matter. She had sacrificed herself for the well-being of her planet. She had bargained with the bloody Saiyan who had started it all.

When she had been young, younger than her twenty six years of age Raditz had come to Earth searching for his brother. Bulma gave a rare smile as she thought of her beloved best friend. Who had known that Goku would come from such a cruel race of barbarians. That he was not meant to be a kind natured and caring man because he was not a human. He was a Saiyan.

Raditz had taken Gohan, asking Goku – or Kakarot as he had called Goku then – to complete his mission and kill the Earthling's. Raditz had soon lost interest in his task as he had seen Bulma who had been holding onto little Gohan on Master Roshi's island. How long ago now was that day, since she had felt cool sea breeze touch her face, the sound of waves crashing peacefully against her ears as she could tasted the saltiness around her.

Now she tasted a life of captivity and abuse. A life where she left a trail of death behind her. She reasoned that it was not her fault from somewhere deep down her weak heart. She knew she enjoyed the way the bastards where killing themselves for her. Her soul seemed to crow in unfamiliar victory at the sight of their defeats. It was the only kind of power she had here.

When Raditz had taken her for himself he had returned them to Vegeta-sei. Half truths and full lies easily spun on finding his brother in a neighbouring solar system from where they had initially sent Kakarot on a purging mission. There Kakarot had crashed his space craft and lost all his memory. He was an abomination to his race, Raditz had told his King and father. He had boasted this to her upon many of his drunken stupors.

Then she had become a secret. Too scared to be questioned on why he had brought her with him, an illegal parcel, too afraid to lose her before he had indulged in her Raditz had carefully hidden her in his home.

She knew what was to come that first night. She had expected it. And yet for some reason – fear or repulsion maybe – she had begged to be left alone. Pleaded and cried while she tried unsuccessfully to move from his grasp. How could she? He was a tower compared to her and his strength compared them to a giant and an ant.

So she had let him. She had closed her eyes and thought about her parents, her friends, Goku and little Gohan. She had thought about them all as she simply just lay there. She bit her lip at his harsh entry, he was too big for her. She let hot tears burn her skin like acidic trails when his invasion was more powerful than her happy thoughts long since passed. Thoughts that were only distant memories now, too far to grasp in this horrid world.

For depressing months after, he tried to encourage her to become willing. He touched her softly and tried his best to illicit a reaction of lust or desire from her. None of which worked however, their first time was too ingrained in her mind to erase after. Every touch of his still made her shudder in fear and squeeze her eyes shut. Every kiss made her stomach churn and every time he entered her she would start doing extremely complex equations in her brain.

As he failed he became bitter. She could see his patience whiter away as his actions became more harsh. Of course he never used enough force to kill her, only to hurt her. To try and break her. However, the more he tried, the more her stubbornness was drawn out. She became fierce in her silent struggle. She would never break.

"One day." He whispered as he pulled her close into his side, holding her like a new born babe all through the heartbreaking night. And she would cry.

Thinking one day she would be free from her torment.

That was the last night she had been with Raditz. One night he had been too drunk to realise that one of his fellow Saiyans had become curious as to why he was no longer using the whores at the Harems. Why his missions were now based to planets near Vegeta-sei, or simply far and few in between. He may have been a third class Saiyan, unworthy of tracking, yet someone noticed Raditz' odd behaviour.

That was the night he had come. Broly. Bulma shuddered. If she could have chosen then, she would have chosen Raditz. Broly had gotten Raditz so drunk and followed him home. There he had seen the reason Raditz was acting strangely. And so Broly had killed him. Bulma would never forget the blood that spattered her face because she would never believe that she could feel relief at seeing someone dead.

For one glorious moment Bulma could breathe. She was free. She had been saved and she had smiled for the first time in months.

It was short lived.

Broly was a masochist. He revelled only in her pain. Turning himself on by watching her skin bleed or hearing her sharp hisses of pain. The more stubborn she became in refusing to sound her agony, the harsher his punishment was. It was never enough for his male ego though.

"Come for me." He would demand with a slap or a vicious bite. Yet she never did.

How could she? They never understood that she had emotions, needs and wants. That she was not another alien they paid to have sex with. That her exotic beauty yet similar physical characteristics to theirs was what enchanted them to her. Secrets could not be kept forever tough. Broly like Raditz became obsessed with breaking her defiance, with trying to command her and it began to consume him. More so than Raditz.

His father Paragus sought to relieve Broly from his burden. Trying to control his son's lust, the older man had leashed his son while Broly was too overcome with a burning desire to fight back. Paragus wanted to kill her, of course he did and she was welcoming it. With Raditz gone, her secret was safe. No one knew that Earth had not been blown up by Raditz.

And no one knew where to look for her either. She had asked Goku - not because Raditz had demanded she do so, but for their own safety - not to look for her and Goku knew what that meant. They all did. In reality who would have expected her to last this long. So she accepted it, welcomed it. Surely death was easier than this life.

Fate must have had more faith in Bulma though for she was not granted the reprieve that death would bring. Paragus wanted to break his son, torment Broly into his senses. So Paragus had stripped Bulma before his own son.

"She is nothing but a whore. You set too much store by her." Paragus spat. Yet when he looked down at the pale woman before him, he inhaled. Inhaled the intoxicating scent that was so foreign his body jerked with lust.

She gasped and he knew he wanted a taste of her full lips. He dipped his head and tasted her. More delicious than an age old wine made from the richest blood, sweeter than the wild fruits that grew on the trees of their land. Consumed with desire Paragus had forgotten his earlier intentions when his own walls were crumbling around him. He lost himself in lust as Bulma lay there, all the while her eyes focused on Broly.

She subconsciously egged Broly on with those shinning blue sapphires, calling upon him to break free from his father's bonds. And so he obeyed her. He roared with a fury that shook the very walls of his large house and he lunged for his father. Bloody battle ensued. Bulma was coming to expect this. Leaving a string of bloody battles in her wake was oddly a heady sensation.

A battle so unruly and fierce, in the dead of night, could not rage unnoticed though. Even on Vegeta-sei. Soon an army of Saiyans were there, too late however. They were simply breaking up a fight between two dead beings and looking down at the blue haired woman draped in her bloody, white silk. Bulma wondered if this was her opportunity to escape, to leave. They were too strong for her. Dragging her by her arms, her knees scraping against the rough sand of their land she so hated. The night air was musty and stifling, so still that Bulma cried and begged to be released just so she would not go mad by the silence that ensued in the darkness around her as it permeated her mind. At least in the confinement of Broly's home the marble walls allowed her some coolness.

"Please let me go. I beg you, please." She sobbed brokenly.

They heard her not and she wondered why her looks garnered none of the instant lust the other Saiyans had died for. Was it that her hair was covering too much of her beautiful face now or her dress was soiled with blood? She knew not why they were dragging her way into the city towards the stone castle she knew to house the royals.

She was picked up at the large double doors, a bald headed giant enquiring on what was going on. He nodded vaguely and Bulma wondered if he was dumb. Then he grabbed her up from her knees. She barely reached his chest and so he lifted her like a rag doll under the pits of her arms.

Again he asked the guard who had dragged her here something in a language she did not understand. Then he snorted and his lips curled down in distaste as he held her out to his gaze. _'Kill me, please.' _She thought hopelessly. She barely had time to register the sparse castle with its imposing tapestries depicting age old warriors before the giant reached a wide pair of double doors. He pushed it opened and dropped her unceremoniously on the ground.

She did not focus on the blood red drapes that was adorned the imposing with rich gold embroidery woven into it. Her blue eyes could not look at the majestic thrones before her that sat upon bones as if they were jewels. That was when she looked up and he stood there. Tall and rugged, his muscles chiselled like a statue. He was not as big as the other Saiyans she had seen thus far, yet the air around him crackled with undeniable power. He looked down at her, dark brown eyes taking her in, his eyebrows raised towards his widows peak and his neat beard twitched.

And she knew then that he was the King.

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**Author's Note:** Thoughts and constructive criticism is appreciated. Flames are not! If you do not like what you've read then simply ignore.

Thanks for Reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Written for the 'We're Just Saiyan' community's 'The Royal Challenge' - Prompt:** Tower of Darkness

Thank you all for the encouraging reviews. You guys are wonderful and they mean so much to me, really. Apologies for any grammar and spelling errors spotted in the last chapter. Reminder, this is an AU and a short story so things will be progressing rather quickly. Happy reading!

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**Tower of Darkness**

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_**Chapter Two**_

**HIS** handsome face was set determinedly, lined with seriousness unbecoming of his usual goofy, carefree attitude. His dark eyes fierce and strong, his muscled arms wrapped protectively around her with a softness that bellied his hardened body.

"I'll bring you back." Goku told her sturdily and she knew that he meant it. He was the baby brother she had never had. She was tempted to ask him to do just that, to let him sacrifice himself as he had done on so many other occasions but a draft of wind, warm in the sunny air yet chilling in her situation, blew strands of her blue hair across her face.

When she lowered her head to avoid stray tendrils falling into her eyes she caught sight of the tiny four year old clutching at Goku's calf. Having just been returned to his father from Raditz Bulma understood why Gohan had no intention of releasing his father. A Dragon Ball attached to Gohan's hideous red hat. A boy who so resembled his father as a young child. How could she ask Goku to give himself for her when they knew Raditz was stronger than Earth's own champion defender. The bruises Goku bore, spewing blood and matter spoke of a hopeless defeat.

Bulma then turned to look over at Krillin a little behind them. He sat on his knees in the sand, looking extraordinarily pale and lifeless. He clutched the hand of his girlfriend Maron, who lay as still as sleeping beauty on tiny Kame Island. Only no kiss would awaken her because this was not a fairy tale – it was reality. An ugly, decrepit reality. Maron had been hit by a stray blast when Goku had tried to fight off Raditz. Bulma could still see a desperate Krillin flying towards Maron, trying to reach her before the Ki blast had. Even though it had been to no avail she wondered what it would feel like to jump at someone in the hopes of saving them so selfishly, without a thought of your own well being. A gaping hole in Maron's once full bosom, where flesh and heart should be, was now filled by sea sand. Blood grains that could never make her whole again or bring her back to life. There was something that could though. For Krillin's sake. If the tears running down so unrestricted from his haunted, lifeless eyes did not convince Bulma, his trying to die for Maron had.

"You'll do no such thing." Bulma told Goku softly and she was surprised that she was doing this. Disbelieving that her voice did not waver and she was not cowering behind the armour like frame of her best friend. As she had done on many a dangerous situation before.

Something, a voice in the back of her mind, a niggling in the pits of her churning stomach, a twinge in the corners of her heart, told her this was her fight. That Raditz had given them an option and she was the only one who could accept it. When she had held a wailing four year old who had begged for his daddy she knew she would not take Goku away from little Gohan. On the pretence of hugging Goku one last time, sniffles and scared crying heard behind them, Bulma wished the sun was not shinning so brightly or the birds singing so cheerfully. Could they not see the heartache unfolding below their pedestals of simple happiness?

"Krillin needs her to come back. She has a life she should live, not dead because she associated with us. I won't last a couple of weeks with Raditz." When she stepped back to look at Goku, he understood her. Her simple words were enough. His rare frown deepened but when he turned around to look at his best friend and an innocent woman – no matter how annoying she had been – lying dead because Goku had failed to protect for once, Bulma knew he would relent. Her defiant expression the last nail in her own coffin.

They could not wish her away from Raditz because they needed to revive Maron. She was dead already and Bulma was not. The balls took a year to regenerate and if they made a wish for Bulma's removal for Raditz, Maron would be lost forever. And even if Bulma did die, there was no point in wishing her back as she would resurrect where she had breathed last.

Before Goku could argue feebly she was being dragged away from him. She did not protest, she offered no complains, not even words of love to her friends. She simply went. Tears flowing so freely from her sad eyes, she was sure she would cry forever then. She wept for the life she was leaving behind and for the one she was entering into willingly. She bowed her head to swipe at her face with her arm and when she looked back they were gone.

She was no longer on a sunny beach on Earth but a hot ball of fire. Orange and red hues casting invisible flames of heat against her skin. Dry earth picked against a harsh breeze, the deep brown stinging her exposed arms and legs and Bulma knew she was in her own personal hell. All the while her captor held onto her small wrists with an iron grip. No. Death's grip. There was no escape from it because the flames were visible now. Lashing fire that raged around her, taunting her for being susceptible to them. They neared her like faces of people filled with hate and anger, until the could finally touch her. Those blazing flames that promised to melt every inch of her until she was bones that turned into ash before them.

Bulma's eyes shot open as she awoke in the dead of night. Her breathing the only sound audible in the stillness of her large bedroom. The magnificent chandelier above her winked mockingly down at her.

"A dream." She sighed as she kicked of her covers, her body drenched in cold sweat. She did not mind her nightmares. She welcomed them.

They reminded her, especially at her most vulnerable when she wanted so desperately to give up, to give in, why she was doing this. For whom she died a little each day only to awaken in the morning and be murdered all over again. From the inside, slowly and painfully. Bulma drew in a deep breath and calmed herself. After all, things were not as bad as they had first been.

Bulma could not ever be happy on Vegeta-sei, yet she was … _content_.

How could she not be? The King was a generous lover. He clothed her in the finest garments credits could buy, fed her with the best delicacies his Planet could offer and allowed her housing in a castle. A rare smile, not one filled with joy, merely a movement of the lips, curved her lush mouth. When she was sixteen she had wanted nothing more than to find her Prince charming. To marry a knight in shining armour and live happily ever after. Therefore she looked upon her situation like a glass half full rather than half empty.

"It keeps me sane." Bulma shrugged as she awoke for the day, knowing she would not be able to find sleep again after a nightmare. Bulma bathed in her stone bath, so extravagant they made Jacuzzis back home seem like a child's plastic bathtub. Steaming hot water was poured in streams for her, exotic flower petals and luxuriant bath oils swirling calmingly in her bath water. Baths had always been a weakness for Bulma and so she allowed herself to indulge fully in those sensations, away from prying eyes. For her joy was something reserved only for herself.

She was not surprised to find breakfast awaiting her after her long bath. A regal frock already laid out for her. She had her own personal maid; her chambers were large and comfortable, furnished in rich oaks, thick carpets and expensive drapes. She had her own outside area that housed a marble fountain and exotic, desert like shrubbery that reminded her of a garden back on Earth. Of course she wished the fountain was not a warrior whose heart gushed water from a sword blow, but she had long since come to expect such crude gestures from the Saiyans, in disguise of décor. So such things barely shocked Bulma anymore.

Bulma ran her nimble fingers through her long tresses, still damp from her recent bath. She sat at the edge of her outside fountain while the heat of Vegeta-sei's scorching sun dried her hair. The tiny speckles of water from the fountain that sometimes touched her face and the gushing sound of flowing water keeping her cool.

"I would like to cut my hair though." Bulma spoke to herself. Something she normally did now.

Bulma sighed. As much as her days were free and unencumbered, spent lazily napping or reading – lapping up as much knowledge on the Planet and its people, from the Castle's expansive library she could – she was easily bored. She craved desperately to be in a lab, exploring alien technology or even touching the familiar feel of a tool in her hand but she knew she could not risk such temptation. The King would be highly against it at first but if he ever learned of her genius genetics in science, then she shuddered to think what awful contraptions she would be forced to build for him. Things that would be used to harm and slaughter innocent people. No, she would not risk the lives of others for her own desires. The King forbade her to socialise with anyone but him. She did not know if it was a tactic he employed to make her dependent on him but Bulma had accepted it.

Ever since the King had taken her as a lover – she despised the word whore – no other Saiyan had looked at her with deadly lust again. Bulma was uncertain if this was because they feared King Vegeta or it was only certain males she seemed to have this weird effect on. She had been gorgeous back on Earth too, coveted by all kinds of men, however it had never been so lethal before. Bulma frowned. The King was an imposing man though, wise and shrewd, powerful and intimidating. No one would dare to go against the King. He demanded respect and commanded fear even from the largest Saiyans she had seen yet. Bulma remembered how much the big brute, Nappa revered the King.

Still though Bulma reserved dislike for the King. Oh, he did not abuse or rape her, but he still took. He touched her and kissed her like he owned her. He treated her like an expensive possession. A dear porcelain doll that needed to be worshiped during play time alone. She had no opinion to offer, no voice to speak off and no brain to suggest with.

That was what haunted her the most. However Bulma preferred living in a castle with a King, protected under his strength instead of being a common whore to lowly ranked Saiyans who had no finesse in taking what they wanted. Who left her open to being stolen by anyone strong enough to win a disgusting fight. She did not want to be violated anymore. So Bulma endured the King, playing meek and passive, being submissive and controllable at all times. And the King, he was spellbound by her. For every fake moan Bulma emitted, every false shudder she gave, the King took. He took but at least he gave her in return. Nothing emotional, no, and nor anything physical either but materialistic endowments. More important he gave her protection. Because Bulma knew from her chambermaid how cruel female slaves were treated. How insensitive the Saiyans could be when not satisfied.

"I am glad that I am not pretty now." Puella had said honestly one day and Bulma could not help but look at herself in the mirror when Puella had left her room.

Bulma had always praised her own looks, sometimes to the point of being vain but she took pride in her unusual features. Her large eyes, a blue so sparkling it could light up a dark room effortlessly. Her button nose and full mouth, dainty chin and perfect cheekbones fit so well together she could have easily been a model back on Earth, especially with her ocean blue hair.

That day though, on a planet far away from home, a slave trapped in her own body, Bulma despised her looks. She saw not her beautiful features but a perfect image of herself staring back at her. Bulma watched, transfixed, as her flawless skin began to shrink into her bones like an old hag's, loosing its almost angelic glow. Her lips melted from her face and she could utter no pleas of help from her nonexistent tongue. Her eyes morphed from a precious blue to a deep green. The colour of jealousy and hatred. Her hair started to fall from her burning skull and Bulma shrieked because she swore she could feel the pain her mirror image was crying against. She raised her tiny palms to her head and pulled at her head.

Bulma shook her head in wild abandon. She shut her eyes and screamed a sound from the depth of her lungs. _"No! No, no, no."_

Sounds and colours blurred in distorted images behind her closed lids and Bulma's skull began to pound. Unable to bear the shrieks of horror the mirror was wailing Bulma plunged her fist into the glass with a power she never knew she possessed.

"Mistress. Mistress, calm down." An unsure touch on Bulma's shoulder jerked her from the cage of her own mind.

"Puella?" Bulma's burning throat managed to whisper, her mouth parched. "Water." She pleaded and the mud brown skinned, mossy green hair, green eyed girl immediately hurried off to fetch her some.

Bulma shivered as she thought about that day. It would have been so easy to kill herself then. That was what Bulma thought as she had waited while Puella had went of to gather medical supplies for her hand. Bulma watched in fascination as blood ran down the side of her fist from her cut knuckles. Bulma, feeling slightly light headed and crying from the intensity of her own memories, picked up a large shard of glass. Looking at it she held out her left arm and raised the mirror towards her flesh.

Bulma's heart started to pound frantically in her chest, the only sound she could hear now, as if her blood knew she was trying to force it from its home. The pointed tip dug into her flesh and Bulma was crying more now, louder and harder until they turned into ugly, wracking sobs. She inhaled jagged breaths into her burning lungs as big fat, salty teardrops fell on her trembling, pouting lower lip. The shard of glass was cutting into the palm holding it and the moment seemed so dramatic, like she was a woman on stage, enacting a medieval Shakespearian play. Blood spotted her arm from her knuckles and now her palm. Bulma pushed the glass into her breaking skin, digging deep into her flesh and pain started to filter through the sound of her heart beating wildly in her ears. It was real then and Bulma grit her teeth with a fore strong enough to chip them but she stuttered. She could not swipe the glass embedded in her hand down her arm to rip though her arteries.

"Fuck!"

And Bulma knew then that it was not true what they said about suicide. The weak did not kill themselves, because it took someone much stronger to actually go through with ending your life. A fear so palpable settled around you, making your body heat up as if you were in a furnace, reacting to pain you knew would come before it even graced you with it's presence. Bulma's hands dropped to her sides dejectedly, the shard of glass falling from her limp fingers, her body feeling boneless suddenly. She gave an ear piercing scream at her situation, wishing someone would take pity on her and end her miserable existence when Puella had heard her screaming and hurried back to her. She was thankful that her chambers where in a distant part of the Castle, far away from prying ears. She would not want to find out what would have happened to her if someone had accused her of being deranged and demented. As it was the young Puella had informed her of the whispers surrounding her stay at the castle.

"It is strange you see. The King has never taken a lady for more than one night before. Let alone allowed one to live in his castle."

Puella had looked at Bulma searchingly that day, as if Bulma would say something that explained why the King was so fond of her. Bulma had no reply. Puella had looked at her almost accusingly before she shrugged. "You are very lovely indeed though."

Since then it seemed to Bulma that she had won some amounts of loyalty from Puella. Something that Bulma was grateful for because Puella had saved her from punishment that day. It had also been the day Bulma had won over the brown skinned maid completely. Maybe it was sympathy for finally seeing how miserable Bulma was, or understanding that Bulma's attempt at trying to take her life meant she didn't like being favoured by the King just because she was having sex with him. Whatever it was, Bulma was simply pleased that Puella saw the bluenette now as she saw herself. Nothing more or less than a slave without a choice. At least Bulma had someone she could really talk to now.

There were nights though, after the King dismissed her from his chambers hours of sex later, when he was horridly satiated that Bulma allowed herself to mourn. She mourned for her family and for her friends. For her old life.

And on those very nights, when the world was still and only the rustle of a soft breeze drifted by her or the crowing of desert birds called did Bulma truly cry. They were noisy, ugly tears. Wracking sobs that would tear at the heart of anyone who heard her. Snot dribbled from her red nose, bulbous like and congested. Her mouth tasted like regret and sadness and Bulma would curse at the world. Curse the Gods and curse the Saiyans.

Then she would ungraciously wipe her nose on the ends of her tailor made nightgowns, for she cared not that she would ruin them, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. When she had no more tears to cry, she would sit there – exhausted. And she would close her eyes and meditate.

She did it not to strengthen her mind or focus her pathetic earthling Ki, she did it for joy. Because in those moments, shrouded in the darkness, unafraid of who would stumble upon her, Bulma remembered. She reminisced on the moments she had spent back on home. Happy, wondrous moments that she had taken for granted that kept her sane now.

She could smell freshly baked butter cupcakes, loaded with the heady aroma of cinnamon and she licked her lips in anticipation. She could hear her mother's girly giggles and her father's loving words as they sat together as a family and Bulma would tilt her head to the side as if to listen more closely now. She would swallow at nothingness but she could swear when she did, plump, juicy strawberries squelched heavenly in her mouth, the sweet flavour exploding on her tongue as Yamcha fed them to her. And Bulma would moan, because if she tilted her head a little like this, and wrapped her arm around herself like that, then she could have sworn she was back home. Promised she was in Yamcha's loving, safe embrace, her head resting in the crook of his neck and his muscular arms twined around her.

Then she would gasp and Bulma would open her eyes only to see the familiar darkness of the tower she sat alone in. The tower that looked upon a training arena, not the Capsule Corp. grounds and she knew it had all been her imagination. She would find her cheeks damp with tears anew when she had thought she could surely not cry more and would sigh then. A sigh so sad and so hopeless it could melt even the coldest of hearts.

That was how he had found her. The Crown Prince of Vegeta-sei, Heir to King Vegeta's throne.

Bulma gasped as she quickly stood from the turrets ledge spinning around gracefully, one hand on her chest, the other gripping the stone behind her. She often called her nighttime's hangout the Tower of Darkness. It was the tinniest turret of the humongous castle and so it was never lit; only the pale moonlight drifting though like hope would filter through the cracks of a haunted soul and Bulma wondered if that was why she liked it so. Because it reminded her of her own body and soul.

She thought the King had possibly been looking for her since the shadows showed her a familiar tuft of burning hair but she soon realised that the intruder could not possibly be the King. The stranger's stature was shorter, possibly her height, his body lithe and compact, his voice raspy compared to the booming one of the King's. This male smelled like sandalwood and something incredibly masculine, primal, visceral.

He raised a large hand to her and Bulma could see well defined muscles flex beneath the royal blue spandex Saiyans preferred here. His movement though made her shrink away from him and unforgiving stone dug into her bottom. Her hips were possibly too well defined to fit through the small opening of the turret but she assumed this intimidating stranger could manage quite fine to push her through if necessary. Bulma's blue eyes widened in disbelief as a Ki ball manifested in the palm of his hand. Finally someone would put her out of a misery like some doleful, dying dog.

She whispered a small sigh of disappointment as he released the Ki ball like one would do a well trained falcon. The ball floated towards a rusty metal lamp and obediently perched itself there. Pale blue light shone upon Bulma and her companion.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked impatiently.

She knew instantly who he was. The infamous Prince Vegeta. His resemblance to the Saiyan King, who was boisterously proud of his only son, was uncanny. The Prince who was adored by his people and Bulma could immediately see why.

Like his father he commanded respect, yet he seemed to make the very air around him whimper in his existence. His sharp, aristocratic features were beautiful in such a rugged way Bulma wished she had clay in her hands then. She wanted to run her fingers along the wet sand and mimic every line and structure of his face into it. It was odd but she felt something familiar prod the back of her mind, like a searched for word at the tip of your tongue that alluded you when you needed it most.

His hair was so dark and thick she wanted to run her fingers through it as if to test its texture. She frowned at her thoughts. She had always been one to admire handsome men but the Prince seemed more cruel than someone you admired for their dashing smile or dapper charm. The way his sensual lips were set in a straight line, his thick eyebrows drawn together in annoyance, his sharp cheekbones brilliant below such dark, dark eyes. Eyes so impenetrable Bulma had to squeeze back a shiver into herself. So accusing, so haughty beneath those thick black lashes that brushed against golden skin from heavy lids.

"I'm Bulma." Was her almost defiant reply and she thought she saw interest flicker in those penetrating eyes that seemed to see through her very fine skin.

"I did not ask your name fool, I asked who you are." He sneered, his voice reprimanding as he spoke down to her. She touched the top of her front teeth with her tongue as she normally did now. A habit that halted her impulsive mouth and witty brains. Verbally combative and argumentative were not things Saiyan men seemed to appreciate in a woman. Even the King. "Are you dumb?"

"I am who my name says I am. I can hardly help it if you can not comprehend such a simple answer." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could draw them back. It seemed like such an oddity to here such outspoken words from her know. Bulma inwardly groaned. Months of self training put out like nothing but one simply blown birthday candle.

She watched as he raised one black eyebrow at her, his face still set so impassively she was surprised he could control such a movement. He took a step towards her, his budging biceps still crossed against a wide chest, fitted in gleaming white armour with the royal crest of Vegeta-sei proudly stamped upon his left pectoral.

Bulma held her breath, the notion making her chest stand out and her elegant neck left vulnerable. Dark images of his strong hand around her neck seemed to mock her stupidity and her situation. She wondered if he'd squeeze her till he could watch her face turn an ugly shade of blue while her breathing ceased. Enjoying the feel of her life draining beneath his strong hands. Or if he'd simply just flick his wrist and be done with her like a swatted fly, not worthy of his time.

"I see father needs better help." His mouth curled into a vicious snarl at her before he turned away from her abruptly. His red cape brushing against her legs as he stalked away from Bulma with a grace she had expected but admired nonetheless.

Bulma frowned at his departure but exhaled slowly. It was then only did she realise her one dainty hand was still pressed against her chest, heart beating erratically beneath her bosom.

* * *

"Do you remember father that a whore can be kept for only twelve months before she is either executed or given to a harem?" Vegeta asked the King.

The King looked upon his only son in amusement. "Certainly son. I am the one who wrote that law after all."

"Then why have you allowed a slut to sleep under the same roof as us?" Vegeta queried.

His father shrugged nonchalantly but Vegeta had spent many years in the presence of his sire. He knew the older Saiyan better than any other being alive. A small wave of irritation was rolling upon the King's shoulders. "Convenience Vegeta, I rather like this one."

Vegeta arched an eyebrow at this. While he never understood the appeal of alien women before, preferring the cleanliness of his own kind, the human was interesting. Her unusual colouring, young features and youthful body could make many a man curious as to the delights of her sexual nature. His father however had never been with one woman alone for such a long period of time. The old man tired easily and often enjoyed killing the whore he kept for the hell of it when her appeal wore off.

"How much father?" And Vegeta knew that he needn't elaborate for those words asked it all.

The King narrowed his eyes at Vegeta aware that his son had already had this conversation with Nappa because Vegeta never asked questions without reasons. He had wondered before where Nappa's loyalties really lay and he pondered the thought more then. Was Nappa faithful to the King who raised him to an Elite standing or the cub he had watched over since birth? Saiyans did not get attached easily but becoming attached to an offspring was not unheard of. Nappa had never mated or reproduced himself. Maybe the buffoon had taken to the Prince. He had certainly tried to question the King's training strategies for the young Prince on many occasions. Nappa had always accompanied Vegeta on missions until the Prince had become frustrated with the "hovering, interfering, meandering oaf." Vegeta had then requested the King help with removing Nappa from his short tempered presence. Due to loyalty to the House of Vegeta as an entire entity had the King elevated Nappa's position to Royal Advisor. The King made a mental note to delve further into Nappa's loyalty though.

Vegeta refused to look away from his father's stern glare. He had been under that stare before and his own determined look would not waver. He wanted his question answered and Vegeta had never been disappointed before. Failure was not something the Prince accepted. Ever. He would master death to win.

He wanted to know why his father was so taken by the woman he had seen last night. The face he had stood silently by and watched so intently. Engrossed in the intensity of her emotions playing across her delicate features like sun rays dancing through windowsills. He had never seen anything more feeble and pathetic before.

Why was she living like a Lady in this castle when surely only a Saiyan of high standing deserved to be bestowed with such honour? How is it that she had her own chamber here, with a personal maid and heaps of the finest garments his father could afford? Why especially were there already a number of men associated with one slip of a female. All of whom were now nothing but burned ashes. Dead.

"Your mother has been dead for many years now. Is it a folly to be fond of a woman who is extraordinarily beautiful and satisfying in bed?"

Vegeta snorted. His father fond of anyone? Vegeta suspected The King was not even fond of himself. Furthermore the woman was hardly that desirable. His mind smirked a smirk so reminiscent to the one his lips gave stupid beings that Vegeta frowned. She was beautiful, but to enrapture the Saiyan King for such a long period of time?

Vegeta's frown deepened as his father continued to complete reams of paperwork. His mind drifted towards the woman he had come across last night. She had been standing in his favourite tower. The one he liked to visit since the lack of light there made him feel like he came home as nothing else ever did. He felt like the shadows that appeared by the moonlight were fragments of his inner self rejoicing in his spirit of irreversible darkness.

Vegeta saw her own shadows mingling boldly with his now as she stood up. Her full figure outlined to perfection beneath her flimsy nightwear.

Before he knew it his eyes were closing of their own accord. Images rushed though his mind like his brain was racing through distant memories he had long since forgotten. And she was their now. Her shiny blue hair whipping around her face in a thick summer breeze. The heat around her making her fair skin flush in a sweet pink hue, blue eyes luminous in the sunlight. He couldn't see himself and Vegeta tried to coax his mind to move the picture around but still he was kept hidden from view.

He knew it was himself with her though, for it was his own memories he was seeing after all. Right? Surely something this vivid and real, so palpable, happening in his very own mind belonged to him?!

Then she smiled at him, full lips stretching impossibly wide, showing perfectly neat and white teeth. Did teeth normally look that appealing? She threw her head back, exposing the slender column of her throat to him as she laughed melodiously at him.

"Vejita." She called seductively to him and he thrilled at the intimacy of her tone.

Smirking at the hazy desire that swallowed the blue of her eyes Vegeta took a predatory step towards her. He enjoyed the way her breathing became shorter and faster, his Saiyan hearing picking up the beat of her pulse as if his ear was pressed close to her neck. He tugged off his gloves as he approached her, tossing the pair carelessly to the ground as he advanced, all the while his dark eyes boring into hers.

When he was right before her, their noses touching and breaths mingling did she finally move. Groaning desperately she grabbed the sides of his face and meshed her lips with his. His mouth was strong, dominant like his being but the feel of her incredibly soft lips against his was weakening. He felt his resolve wane as she slipped her hot tongue into his mouth and past his sharp teeth. At the first touch of her tongue on his, all pretence at civility disappeared as an animalistic growl ripped from his throat.

And she would moan his name. "Vejita." Whisper it on a desperate, pleading breath that made him forget …

"Vegeta? Son!" His father's bellow snapped Vegeta into the present.

The prince looked wildly around the King's antechamber for a moment before he took in a deep breath. His head was pounding. He felt as if a landslide of rocks had fallen against his skull. Vegeta closed his eyes, as he pinched the bridge of his nose before his thumb and middle finger shaped over his eyebrows and innocuously rubbed his throbbing temples as they came down the sides of his face and met at the end of his chin.

"Are you alr - ..."

"I'm fine." Vegeta snapped. He hated being asked how he was feeling. The question suggested he was not well and therefore indirectly implied he was weak. Really, he had handled races of warriors all by himself. He could handle a little headache.

Caused by what, he did not know. He wondered if he knew the Earthling but frowned at the thought. He had never been to Earth before and from what Nappa had told him the woman had been brought here before her planet was blown up. She had apparently never ventured into space before that. Not surprising since Earth was a backwater planet. He resigned himself to learn more about her and excused himself from his father's presence.

"Remember father, she has six more months before she dies."

* * *

"Remember father, she has six more months before she dies."

Bulma gasped as she turned around from the slightly ajar door she had been eavesdropping against. She had not meant to listen in on a private conversation but when she had heard them talking about her she could not resist. She normally took the King his afternoon drink if he was not tied up in political meetings or away in another city. Today she had waited outside, afraid the Prince was complaining about last nights incident to the King. Puella had told her that mouthing off to the Prince was a terrible idea. He had apparently killed beings for much less. Things like looking at him in the wrong way or simply just existing.

She had not known that woman were only to be kept for twelve months. Bulma let her head rest against the wall before she heard the telltale scrape of a chair. Not wanting to be found listening at doors she quickly held the tray more firmly in her hand and slid around the corner. She heard the Prince's footsteps walking out the door before they stopped completely.

Fear heated her cheeks as she realised he could probably sense her presence. He was a Saiyan with keen sense of smell after all. Bulma pressed herself against the wall as if hoping it would allow her to become one with it, head thrown back, eyes shut as she tried hard not to breathe. Her ears pricked as she listened for his soft footfalls. _'Go.'_ She chanted in her mind but Vegeta would not heed her silent thoughts.

Thinking fast, Bulma took in a deep breath and steadied herself quickly. Her pulse was racing but she made to mentally squash down her suffocating fear. Her stomach queasy and unable to swallow Bulma walked towards the King's antechamber.

She stopped short at the sight of Vegeta standing outside the King's working chamber. His back was towards her but his head turned at the sound of her approach. Keen eyes watching her every move like a waiting vulture beckoning her to falter so he could pounce.

Feigning surprise Bulma gasped slightly as she averted her eyes quickly, lest he see her guilt hidden there, on the pretence of respect. She bowed slightly, snack tray bending with her. She silently thanked her mother for those brilliant drama lessons money could buy and for passing on female etiquette and gracefulness to her.

"Prince Vegeta."

At his name he turned around fully, so fast that Bulma could have sworn he hadn't moved at all. Curiously she raised her eyes to his face. It was impassive again she saw, a mask of cold, hard stone he wore. She wondered what she might find beneath his expressionless face if she simply chipped away at his barriers until he was exposed and raw to her intelligent eyes.

His eyes roved over her face, studying her and Bulma stared back all the more inquisitively, a light frown marring her almost perfect skin.

He was suddenly very, very close to her and Bulma wondered what that was she smelt. The overly rich aroma of the King's drinks masking something else that was tugging at her nostrils. Before Bulma could sniff at the air though Vegeta grunted and turned away from her again. _'He's making a habit of doing that.'_ Bulma thought with a mental huff. There was something eerily familiar about the Prince. Odd, she had never felt familiarity with the King before and the Prince looked almost identical to the older Saiyan.

The tray in her hand shook, reminding her of her task and Bulma turned around to the King's study. It was strange that the scent seemed to follow her into the room. So spicy yet not overpowering. Like cinnamon. Strong yet strangely not overwhelming.

After the King drank his tea and beckoned her to him Bulma closed her eyes and resigned herself to her faith. All the while that smell she had so quickly become used to drifting into her nostrils. It fumed inside her head until her mind was hazy and thick clouds of fog appeared there. Bulma felt herself trying to poke through the mist like apparition in her head when some of the fog parted. She moved her head from side to side, trying to peak through the cracks there. She gasped and her eyes shot open when the Prince's regal frame came into view.

Bulma was pleased when the King dismissed her with a disgusting grin on his smug face. Thankful he had not noticed her being distracted, considering himself the reason no doubt, she quickly bowed and left the room after clearing the tray from his table.

She shook her head slightly as the beginnings of a terrible headache surfaced in her mind. Bulma would take a long bath as she always did after being with the King. It was something she did to rid herself of the stench and feel of the King before she rested. Then night would come and she must relive her hated affairs again. Giving, giving, and giving so much of herself. She wondered when there would be nothing left of her to give.

* * *

That night was hotter than many of the others she had come to experience in the almost year she had lived on Vegeta-sei. She was in her Tower of Darkness once again. Tonight however was different. When Bulma looked out the window and tried to inhale a non existent breeze, searching for reprieve from the heat her eyes widened.

She watched, unable to move her gaze away from the sight presented so alluringly to her. She stared.

Prince Vegeta stood below her, performing elegant katas in the training arena her tower overlooked, bathed in the moonlight. He looked ethereal … magnificent. Nothing but spandex melded over every muscle on his thick legs, dipping into every indentation as he moved through the air like a dolphin in water. His bared chest was perfect, even the whiter traces of battle scars enhancing his Greek God like physique rather than marring it. Bulma picked up every facet of his being as if she were standing right next to him and not miles high in a tiny turret of the castle.

He swayed, more in tune with the exertion of his own breathing and focus of his self control than a ballet dancer to the thrill of world class music. Not even Yamcha or Goku had ever made her want to watch them exercise before. Sweat, glinting from the moonlight, trickled down Vegeta's body and Bulma involuntarily licked her lips, swearing she could taste the drops of saltiness on her lips. She had not realised she had been leaning out the turret when Vegeta suddenly stopped in mid stance. Eyes widening Bulma sprung back and bent down low.

"Oh Kami." She moaned in horror as she realised he might have seen her. For his eyes had turned to stare at the very tower he had found her on last night just before she could duck down. Like some naughty school girl eyeing her gym teacher. Although she could not remember ever there being such a man to posses such male beauty before. Powerful and perfect. Heart racing.

Yes, her heart was definitely racing. Crawling on her hands and knees, fearing if she stood her shadow may give her away, Bulma made her way to the tiny stone steps of the tower. Once there she gathered her long nightgown in her fists and ran down the steps. Pelting along the cool floors of the corridors, thankful her bare feet made no sound of her night time wandering, Bulma only slowed down at her antechamber. Upon reaching the safety of her own room Bulma leaned against the closed door. Chest heaving and burning from her mad dash here. It did nothing to calm her frenzied heart and Bulma found her eyes were closing slowly as if to mock her weakness.

However Bulma gasped when Vegeta appeared behind her closed lids, as if he followed her into her mind just to catch her. The darkness in her head only giving enough light to see the Saiyan Prince. He smirked at her, a simple tilt to one end of his lips but oh Kami she thought she would melt from that cruel mouth of his.

"Do not mock me, Vejita." She chastised but Bulma could tell her words were not scolding. Rather playful and amused.

He raised an eyebrow at her yet he looked at her with knowing onyx orbs that reflected her own face to her memory. Bulma loved seeing her face in his dark eyes. They proved to her that there was more to her man than the darkness only a devil could create. He simply uncrossed his arms and Bulma's gaze could not help but lower to the sight of his bronze chest bared to her eyes. He held out one strong hand to her and Bulma did not think twice as she placed a dainty palm in his. Excitement bursting within her like bubbles of a fizzy drink.

The moment she placed her hand in his Bulma felt shockwaves of pleasure spiral past her fingers and up her arms. She bit her lip as she shivered and he smirked knowingly at her. When he pulled her towards him and her hands landed on his broad chest to steady herself, Bulma smile coquettishly up at him. Half hooded lids showed mischievousness dancing like blue firelight and his hand reached for her waist length hair behind her. Pulling at it harshly Bulma's back arched as she gasped half from pain, half from anticipation. She swallowed and she could feel his black eyes watching the movement of her throat. Sensual lips touched the pulse beating erratically beneath that sensitive spot below her jaw and Bulma's body jerked towards him.

"Vejita." She begged as her fingers dug into his shoulders while he held her in place by her hair. His arousal pressing against her stomach and Bulma wriggled her hips to try and feel him where she so desperately wanted his hardness to be. Just then however footsteps could be heard from behind them.

Vegeta released Bulma instantly and she stumbled backwards.

In the present Bulma wavered on weak knees as she fell back against her chamber door. Leaning against the hard wood, breathing heavily Bulma realised she was safe in her room, alone. It had been … what the hell had that been?

Bulma jumped when she heard footsteps outside her door. She frowned as she remembered her, her … Worry momentarily halted her thoughts as she heard someone stop outside her door. She gulped in fear wondering if the Prince was outside her chambers, looking to admonish her earlier behaviour.

She waited, for what seemed like hours before she heard the footsteps recede away from her rooms. It was then only did Bulma exhale the breath she had not realised she had been holding.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading. As always, thoughts and constructive criticism is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Written for the We're Just Saiyan Google+ Community's 'The Royal Challenge'

Prompt: Dark and Stormy Night

Once again thank you all for the encouraging reviews, it really is like crack to me. Then again I've never tried crack … anyway, moving on, I have a tiny request to make; if it is not too much to ask I would truly appreciate it if my guest reviewers could log on because I feel really awful when I can't thank you personally for taking the time to review. That's how much it means to me. If not, well then just know that it his highly appreciated, from the bottom of my heart!

Also I am a bit of a liar because I did mention the word count range would be between 3 – 10k at the beginning, however this chapter exceeds that without my ramblings even. As much as I wanted to keep things vague I did not want gaping holes in the plot so I tried to find a plausible balance here, you can decide if I succeeded or not. I must apologise for the ugly, amateur errors in the last chapter. I think it's easier to Beta for someone else because with your own work you just know what's to come and you sorta overlook the glaring errors. Sorry about that. Alright, I'll shut up now. On with the story, enjoy.

* * *

**WARNINGS: ****Loads of graphic sexual content ahead, reader discretion is advised. I have not tried to consciously avoid crudity or lewdness and I apologise if you find this offensive because my perverse mind finds it very sexy … Tell me if you think I'm a complete nutter by the end of it.**

* * *

**Dark and Stormy Night**

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

**SHE** crawled over him like a lithe panther, graceful and undeniably sexy. Her round bottom moved erotically from side to side as she stalked towards him on hands and knees.

He lay on a large four poster bed watching her in amusement, hands cradling the back of his head almost nonchalantly. Though the large bulge below his ripped stomach said otherwise and he shifted into excitement as her blue stare eyed him with unadulterated desire.

His strong fingers twitched, making it all the more difficult to keep from reaching for her, dragging her towards him and ravishing her full lips with his. He would do no such thing though. He was the Prince of all Saiya-jins and he would not bend to her will. He was far stronger than lust.

"Vejita." Her lips trailed heated breaths up his bare abdomen and his muscles clenched at the warmth spread right through to his groin. She smiled then, so sweetly and innocently that he was surprised only he had been her first. She cupped his cock with her slender fingers and rubbed the length of it with sinfully pleasurable strokes that turned his breathing ragged.

Gods, how did she do that? He closed his eyes as she touched him, determined not to show her the weakness she so devilishly tried to exploit. Before he could protest though the minx pulled at his spandex pants. Her nails scraping into his thighs purposefully and he hissed as tendrils of pleasure wound itself around his body. His left eyelid twitched violently as her tongue snaked out to touch the tip of his hard shaft. That was when he finally snapped. His midsection arched towards her mouth pitifully and his arms reached out to take her head in his hands.

Vegeta shot up from his bed as his eyes opened and the last remnants of his dream faded away with awakening reality. He took in a harsh breath and rubbed a hand down the length of his face. He grit his teeth at the hardness of his cock and rubbed his temples slowly.

He had been home for a week now and he wished he had stayed away longer. The woman – Bulma – his father's slave was driving him fucking insane. He could not understood why he was suddenly plagued by vivid dreams that chose her to be the star of, so vivid they were that he awoke with a pounding headache and a painful erection.

The worst part of it all was that each time he was in close proximity to her he felt his mind become full and heavy. Inescapable yawns being stifled while his eyelids became heavier than mountainous boulders. Vegeta knew he would have to learn of the reason his father's whore was appealing to him so unnaturally.

* * *

Bulma tried unsuccessfully to not shift under the heavy scrutiny of the Prince. His dark eyes bored into her with such intensity she had to always keep her head lowered to stop herself from squirming. She knew he disliked her something bad, he wanted her dead she remembered and it bothered her.

While this was what Bulma had been waiting for, yearning for someone to end her misery, the thought of Prince Vegeta wanting her dead bubbled emotion inside of her that she had no right feeling. This was not just because he was already plotting her murder however. Every time she found herself unwillingly, or by some stroke of fate in the Prince's presence Bulma had become overwhelmed with emotions. Sometimes she had the strangest sensation that none of them were hers.

"Father." Her ears pricked at the raspy voice of Vegeta.

He spoke to the King but Bulma saw his ebony eyes shiftily rove towards her before innocuously settling on the King again. She had just brought the King his pre-dinner tray when the Prince had entered. Bulma refused to feel intimidated as she sat on the lush chaise the King's working chambers offered.

Her dress pooled around her sides and the tight corset of the bodice made it difficult to breathe in. She was by no means a slim woman. She had a tiny waist and slender legs but Bulma's breasts were bountiful and her hips voluptuous. The medieval outfits the King expected her to dress in did not render her the same comfort as her short and skimpy outfits on Earth had. So when being undressed she could at least take pleasure in breathing without the fear that her ribs would crack or her breasts would overflow from her low neckline.

Bulma tried to sit primly but she was not used to being so intimidated by someone. Vegeta unnerved her. While she never truly feared the King or other Saiyans – death was always welcomed by Bulma – something about the Prince discomforted her. These thoughts played on Bulma's mind regularly nowadays. While the genius enjoyed having a conundrum for her brain to puzzle out it caused her relapses in the present.

When Vegeta was in the same room as her, or his scent lingered around a corridor he had no doubt been in, or Bulma was thinking unconsciously about him she would sink into the caverns of her own mind. It was an odd sort of experience. Almost as if she was recovering memories after having being diagnosed with amnesia. Her mind would conjure images of herself and the Prince that was obviously fantasy as she had never met him before. What scared Bulma about these things though were how lost she would become in them and how the visions made her feel afterwards. The emotions fresh and alive within her as if she had literally just relived moments of her past. She knew it could not be the future because they always looked so young in her mind, younger possibly than they were now. It was as if her mind was stuck in a place it created to hide in. She wondered if it was simply Post Traumatic Stress however she could not understand why Vegeta was the reason she would be experiencing such symptoms.

"Bulma!" Bulma's head shot up at the King's booming command and she immediately regretted losing herself to her thoughts. The King did not look happy that she had not been hanging onto his every word.

Bulma helplessly looked to Vegeta from instinct as she would do in the hopes that someone would fill her in on what she had missed out on. She was surprised to see the Prince did not look any happier than the King and Bulma immediately felt panicky.

"I apologise my King, I just feel under the weather today." Bulma lowered her head in shame as her cheeks flamed red. Embarrassment at having to lie while Vegeta's eyebrow arched at her burning face. The Prince was not as ignorant to her as his father was. Vegeta spent much time watching her and Bulma knew he could tell when she was lying.

The King sighed. He was exceptionally fond of Bulma and it was awfully difficult for him to punish her for her misdeeds. She was very well behaved and compliant and the King would be sad to see her go when her time had passed. Therefore he could extend much tolerance for the girl.

"The Prince will escort you back to your chambers for today as we are expecting foreign dignitaries this evening. Do not leave your rooms unless I send Nappa to receive you. Stay with Puella."

"Of course, your Highness." Bulma smiled sweetly at the King as she stood in her excitement.

A night spent away from the King was like candy for a two year old. She loved when boring, stuffy dignitaries visited because they would keep the King occupied for days on end and he spent less time with her. He did not want it becoming universal knowledge that he was harbouring a common alien, whore in his castle. That would surely raise a few eyebrows. Also the King was a very possessive Saiyan. He did not appreciate another looking at something that was his. He feared that someone would ask him for Bulma and he would not be able to produce a plausible explanation for refusing to give her away. He was not a foolish male after all.

The only Saiyan male the King trusted her with was Nappa. Now the Prince too it seemed. However the King had not entrusted her in the care of Saiyan woman. He feared their jealousy and brutality would cause her to come to harm. Bulma silently appreciated Puella. The brown skinned alien was somewhat of a friend now.

"Good." The King stated as he waved his hand at the doors before he looked down at his scrolls of parchment again.

In all her excitement Bulma had forgotten the Prince's presence. As always he was watching her with an intensity that sent a scattered shiver up her spine. She watched as the Prince narrowed his eyes at her before he turned around with a swish of his blood red cape. Bulma quickly made to follow.

* * *

It was not a very long walk even with the many winding corridors, long hallways and fleets of stone steps they made their way through but it was long enough with Vegeta.

His ice cold silence seemed to scream at Bulma more ear-splittingly than a banshee's cry. His brooding aura made her feel uncomfortable walking next to him, as if she were intruding in his space. Her tongue was currently being bit on to keep words from escaping her throat. The sounds of their footsteps grating on her nerves.

"Stop that!" The Prince barked suddenly and Bulma jumped a foot high.

She squeaked as she looked uncertainly around her, thinking he must have been addressing someone else. Yet there was no one else around them in this quiet part of the castle. Vegeta rolled his shoulders back as she realised she had stopped moving. The Prince stood still too, arms now crossed over his broad chest as he turned to watch her.

"Stop what?" Bulma asked tentatively, unsure of what she had been doing or if she had any rights to question and speak freely to him.

"Sighing." He said in an obvious voice that was clearly irritated.

Bulma frowned at this. She had not realised she had been sighing. She must have done it unconsciously. "I did not mean to, I apologise." Bulma told him sincerely and a deep frown creased his strong forehead. His thick eyebrows drawing together below his defined widows peak.

They stood there then, staring at one another unsure why it was they could suddenly not move. It was not like some climactic scene in a movie or line in a book where they were falling in love with each other or drowning in the others eyes. This was real. An almost electric charge holding them locked in a curious staring match. Each more distracted by the other's intentions.

Then Vegeta took a jerky step towards her and the spell was broken. His eyes widened and Bulma released the breath she had unknowingly held in her lungs. Swallowing stiffly she watched as Vegeta turned to walk away from her, his lips sneering irritatingly at her. Bulma felt overly off balanced. As if she had just come down from a carnival ride that spun you around endlessly and needed to find her feet on solid ground again. She thought she had just lost the contents of her breakfast and her cheeks were hot and bothered.

Bulma frowned at her behaviour. Her blue eyes focused solely on the stone floors as she refused to walk next to Vegeta now, instead choosing to follow like an admonished puppy denied a good pat. Bulma had never been afraid of flirting with handsome men before. She had even latched onto the arm of General Blue at sixteen on one of her adventures with Goku. And the General had been gay.

However this was not some childish adventure where a strong Goku would protect her. Here she was unarmed with her handy capsule resources, alone with a male who was not human. After all that she had been through with the Saiyans it was natural that she was distrusting of them. Vegeta unnerved her more than any other because he was very unpredictable. It seemed like he wanted her dead but not by his hand.

Bulma had not realised that they had reached her antechamber as she had been so lost in her own messy thoughts. She stopped short with a little _"eep"_ when she lightly bumped into the Saiyan Prince. Quickly taking a step back Bulma's foot landed on the unnecessary, frilly tail of her incessant dress and she immediately stumbled backwards. She would have fell flat on her bottom had Vegeta's arm not shot out to loop around her waist.

"Great reflexes." She couldn't help but mumble as he was now bent over her arching back.

To someone looking on the outside in it would seem that Bulma and Vegeta had just completed some brilliant tango move, where he was bending her in an impressive flourish instead of saving Bulma from her clumsiness. Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her words but did not deign to reply. It was clear that he had caught her more from instinct and superior reflexes than the desire to actually save her. Vegeta roughly pulled her back up again. His large hands settled on her waist to steady her as she mechanically placed her palms on his chest.

That was when Bulma frowned. Her head lifted slightly as that heady, masculine scent that was uniquely Vegeta drifted through her nostrils. She inhaled it like some influencing narcotic.

"Woman?" She heard the uncertainty in Vegeta's voice but she could not respond.

Her chest felt heavy and her body too hot in her stifling clothes. Her bones were weighing greatly inside her and her mind was withdrawing in itself again. Bulma's fingers scraped into Vegeta's chest plate as she tried to grip at something solid.

She laughed at his arrogance. "You think it so easy to leave my kind? All that I know, all that I was created for?" Her voice was haughty and confident in her own skin again.

She saw his calm demeanour change to anger instantly. His voice harsh and cruel when he spoke. "I am willing to live on this planet with the consequences of my actions. I am choosing my fate. You are leaving by being given a chance. They will not harm you so."

He turned his broad back on her, the muscles there rippling furiously. She knew she had offended him and sighed softly. He did not understand that she had responsibilities and duties too. Such bonds were not easy to break. What off her family and friends on both planes? She was not being selfish, thinking of herself but rather all her young charges that needed her. She would be helpless to their plights if she forsaked her birthright.

She walked over towards him and placed a small hand on his shoulder. He did not jerk her hand away from him but neither did he acknowledge her askance touch. Sighing again she stepped closer towards him. The centre of her body pressed against his strong side. She rested her head on his shoulder and she felt him relax slightly. Inhaling his spicy scent she closed her eyes to treasure their closeness.

"It is difficult, you know this. Please do not make it more so by being angry at me. I simply require some time to ensure all my affairs are in order before my departure. I would hate to simply just up and leave. There is no honour in that, yes?"

With the mention of the word honour she felt his shoulders sag in acceptance. She let out a sigh of relief when his crossed arms fell to his sides.

"Stop that." He told her, traces of irritation from their argument could be heard in his voice yet he sounded more resigned than angry now.

"Stop what?" She asked him in confusion. Her eyes opened and she rested her chin on his shoulder to look at his profile. He was so handsome and interesting to admire. His face all sharp angles and planes yet starkly beautiful she knew.

"Sighing." He told her simply and she gave a small smile at that. He never missed anything, her Prince. His senses so finely attuned to her.

"Sorry." She muttered. "Your highness." She mumbled under her breath and she heard him scoff at her words.

She had always enjoyed teasing his title, never granting him superiority over her. She knew that it was one of the things he appreciated about her, seeing him as an equal and her ability to challenge him. She placed a soft kiss on his shoulder blade and he turned around finally.

"Woman." His endearment for her had started of annoying but now she relished it. She was his woman was what she thought as he wrapped his strong arms around her.

Only this time he did not hold her like she knew he had then, or expected he would maybe but grabbed her arms and shook her painfully.

"Woman. Bulma." It was the call of her name, sounding so unfamiliar and unknown that made Bulma's eyes open wide. She was being shaken by the Saiyan Prince from one of her delusions again. Only this time when she looked into his black eyes she could see the blue of her own eyes reflected in his gaze. Something oddly like recognition glinted in his eyes.

"Vegeta. It is you?" She whispered. The words tumbling from her mouth before her brain could make sense of them.

"Yes. Who else would it be?" She smiled at his arrogance.

Bulma slowly reached for him, their eyes moving to watch her hand as she touched the hard jaw that was always set so stubbornly and strongly unless alone with her. She smiled as his lips smirked at the feel of her smooth hand against his thick skin. Bulma beamed at him, her eyes darting to his.

As if a spell had been broken Bulma jerked her hand away from Vegeta' face. Vegeta stood straighter almost stumbling away from her. She knew what he was thinking, feeling. Uncertainty, shock, disbelief.

They had just shared a moment that seemed eerily familiar but definitely new to the both of them. The two had spoken to each other like lovers of old, reuniting under the night sky with only the moon and stars to witness their deserved reunion.

"Who are you?" Vegeta asked angrily, his forehead creased deeply.

"I …" She was Bulma, she had always been herself. She was Bulma Briefs. "Bulma." She said softly. Only it sounded wrong even to her own ears.

He nodded but Bulma cold tell that he did not understand her. Neither did she. "Bulma."

This time when he said her name he said it more confidently, as if reminding himself of whom the name belonged to. To the woman before him. Not some strange demon haunting the backs of his mind, the depths of his deepest caves he had had no reason to venture into before. He turned around hastily and stalked away from her. If his strides were not such practiced brisk steps he might have thought he was running away then. And if by some unknown reason Bulma could read his mind she might have agreed with him.

* * *

Vegeta fought with a zeal he had not known existed inside of him before, even with his usual determination and increasing need to be better than himself. Ki blasts rained from his hands like frustration manifesting from his body.

He screamed as he flew into the air, duelling a dozen or so of first class Saiyan elites. Fighting at their peaks and as a team yet still so pathetic. Unchallenging to him. All the while he pictured blue hair and blue eyes on each face he tried to send to the med bay, while Nappa watched from below.

Vegeta wished he could get off planet immediately but of course he would not be allowed to. His father had fucking political meetings to attend that he, as Prince had to be a part of too. "Training to be King is not only physical Vegeta. It's metal and emotional too." He needed to learn how to play on the emotions of others while he had none himself. Keeping himself detached to cease to be vulnerable. Erasing himself from any equation drawn up to use him as a pawn.

However Vegeta was dying on his home planet. That cursed whore was doing something to him. She was trying to ensnare him. She was some sort of demon or alien that did not belong to Earth. She could be a siren for he wondered about that blue hair of hers. He could not believe he was being distracted by a mere female. A weak one who was his father's whore nonetheless.

By law he had no rights to touch any Saiyan's concubine unless he battled the other man honourably first. Vegeta grimaced at that. He was stronger than his old man, had been for years now, but to kill the King for a whore? Vegeta growled as he realised his thoughts were disgusting and dishonourable. There was only one thing that could be done. He needed to kill the Earthling. He could do so and make it look like an accident. Blame her chambermaid if need be. Vegeta clenched his jaw and fists. With his mind made up he called a halt to his sparring session. He called out how dismal the battered and bruised Saiyans were, his punishment for their weakness was denying them the use of regeneration tanks for healing. Vegeta kicked off the ground and flew from the training areas towards the castle.

* * *

"Prince Vegeta." Puella was so surprised by the young Prince's presence in her mistress' chambers that the young girl could only stare wide eyed at him. Then the brown skinned alien jerked into an uncomfortable bow though her eyes strained upwards to keep Vegeta in her sights.

The Prince stood there for long moments, fists clenched at his sides, his back stiff and tail bristling behind him. He seemed unsure of how or why he came about to Bulma's chambers and Puella stood straight again. The maid played with her red apron unsure what she should say to the Prince. She had never before spoken to the young Saiyan; however the stories she had heard were making her tongue tied with fear. Luckily Puella was saved by her mistress' entrance from the bathroom at that moment.

Bulma strode into her sleeping chamber with nothing but a tiny drying cloth wrapped around her body. The blue haired beauty had never shown modesty before Puella and from what the girl knew Bulma had been something of a princess on Earth. She accepted being taken care of with a grace that could only be bred into you. Yet Bulma was not like the Saiyans. She had a heart beneath her chest. One that beat blood into her body, making her warm and welcoming. Not frigid and unapproachable.

"Vegeta." Puella noticed that Bulma was shocked to see the young Prince in her chamber but she had not addressed him formally. Instead Bulma seemed to be watching the Prince with uncertainty and fear coupled with interest and expectation.

Vegeta stood there still, statue like, looking from one to the other. Then like a flash of lighting Vegeta was directly before Puella. His large hand wrapped around the maid's neck. Puella's green eyes widened as she struggled to breathe. Her hands immediately moving to Vegeta's wrist, trying to free herself from such a treacherous hold.

"Vegeta." Bulma shrieked as she ran forward. One hand clutching her towel the other flying to Vegeta's hand. "What are you doing?" Bulma's voice was full off panic and Puella was very afraid for her life in that moment. "Please, just release her. Why are you doing this?" Bulma demanded as her maid's dark brown skin turned an unhealthy shade of pale brown.

In the face of her only friend on this planet being killed for no apparent reason by a Prince who scared the living daylights out of her Bulma could think not of propriety or place in her present position. The only thoughts she knew then was that she did not want to see her maid being killed in cold blood before her eyes. Bulma tried to pull at Vegeta's hand but his grip refused to leave Puella's neck. Vegeta shook her hand off and she stumbled back slightly. "Stop it!" Bulma screamed as a sob broke free from her throat and her hand went to Vegeta's strong shoulder, trying to pull his attention to her.

She noticed Vegeta's eyes close at Bulma's touch and his shoulder stiffened before he dropped Puella from his strangle hold. The maid fell with a small thud. She immediately started to back away from Vegeta, dragging her bottom on the thick carpets of Bulma's chambers. Bulma quickly made her way to the girl.

Bulma bent down and touched the girl's shoulder. Tears streamed from her emerald green eyes as Puella's muddy colour returned to her face. "Are you alright?" Bulma asked in concern. Puella could only nod as she massaged the column of her fast bruising throat, trying to catch her breath.

Bulma looked over at Vegeta who still had his eyes closed, his body trembling faintly and Bulma recognised the symptoms to when she was remembering something. A thought came to Bulma but she pushed it aside for now. Bulma quickly got up and hurried past Vegeta. Her hand still not leaving her towel. She grabbed her goblet of water from her bedside table. It was then that she noticed Vegeta inhaling the air around him as she walked by him again. Acidic fear was bubbling from the pits of her stomach and Bulma was finding it difficult to breathe. She pushed on though, worrying for Puella's safety.

Puella looked afraid as she studied Vegeta and Bulma took the goblet of water over to her maid. The young girl drank deeply but her eyes never left Vegeta over the rim of her goblet. Bulma rubbed the girls back soothingly. It was then that Vegeta opened his eyes.

Bulma shuddered as his black eyes glinted murderously. He looked slightly deranged as his jaw clenched before he rubbed hard at his temples. Bulma was afraid to attempt an escape move lest she enrage the Saiyan Prince into killing her immediately.

Vegeta's dark eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. Bulma comforting her maid as if the muddy girl was important to her. She walked around him to bring water to the girl's lips as if she mattered. Why would a whore – one with a King's standing – take pity on a common slave? Her own servant. He had thought it a perfect opportunity to dispose of the maid before he found the woman so he could prepare a neat set up for their deaths. He had not counted on interference though, not from Bulma nor his blasted mind.

"I may do as I please." Vegeta said softly. Too softly for Bulma's liking. There was nothing untoward in his voice to suggest he was discussing murder, he spoke that clinically. Bulma felt her fear churn into a deep fury that made her stand upright. She placed herself directly before Puella.

"I do not know what you think you are doing here but you will not be killing her." Bulma thought she could easily barter her life in exchange for Puella's. Not only did she not mind dying but she did not want the young girl to suffer because of Vegeta entering her chambers. He had no right to be inside her quarters. That in itself was treason against his father, his King. Bulma knew this; the King had her under royal protection on Vegeta-sei.

Vegeta growled at Bulma and her fury started to ebb away again as fear threatened to overwhelm her. Vegeta could kill her and Puella both but she knew he wouldn't. Not straight away at least. He had come here for a reason and Bulma knew she wanted to know that reason as much as he did. She watched as he turned away from her haughtily and crossed his arms over his shoulders. Bulma heaved a large sigh as her shoulder sunk in relief. She then turned quickly to Puella.

"Please, for your own safety speak of this to no one. Go to your rooms and do not seek me out unless it is of the utmost importance." Bulma stared deeply into Puella's green eyes.

The girl nodded but she looked sceptically at Vegeta. "Are you sure mistress Bulma?"

'_**No!'**_ Bulma's mind screamed but she nodded anyway. She turned to look at Vegeta, his ear twitching as he inconspicuously listened to their conversation. "I am." Bulma told Puella seriously. Her maid's eyes widened but she looked searchingly at Bulma. "Tell no one." Bulma reiterated and Puella nodded her promise before leaving.

Bulma quickly snatched the long robe lying on a nearby chaise and shrugged it on quickly. Then she threw her towel where the robe once sat. Her heart was beating so loudly she was afraid Vegeta would hear it. Her room was permeated with a fear so palpable Bulma was sure she could taste it now. She knew that if she gave into her terror though it would choke her bravery away.

"Why are you here?" Bulma asked softly and Vegeta turned to face her then.

He watched her closely she noticed. His coal black eyes roamed every damp patch that her silk like robe stuck to where she had not managed to dry properly. The towel holding her wet hair upon her head felt too heavy a burden now and Bulma's head began to pound. Her eyes became heavier and she noticed the all too familiar signs. Her mind was trying to lull her into its visions again. Willing her to seek out images and memories that she recognised. Bulma fought against it. Now was not the time. She pulled the towel from the top of her head and let her damp hair fall around her shoulders. She felt a little better then.

"I think we both know the answer to that." He replied shrewdly.

Bulma bit her lip as she watched him. His normally golden skin a touch paler. His eyes though were ever alert and watchful. He appeared to be fighting to stave of his reaction to her as she was to him. What could she tell him? The truth she supposed. Yet not even she knew what the truth was at that moment. "I don't know." She told him simply.

"Are you seeing it too?" He asked.

Bulma nodded, much too curious to pretend otherwise. "Yes."

He nodded too. Bulma was certain that Prince Vegeta was unused to not knowing what was happening in his life. He liked to be in control of everything. He became slightly unpredictable otherwise. As he had shown with Puella now.

"How can you trust your maid?" He asked in confusion.

"If I can't trust her, then there's no one I can trust here. And that is something that allows me to sleep at night. However, I think trying to kill her makes me certain of her silence." Bulma's words were derisive and filled with loathing.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her. "She should be thankful, rare are occasions where I have spared people."

Maybe it was that no man since Earth had spoken to her as if she were a normal person or the fact that Vegeta had actually asked her a question and considered her answers that Bulma spoke to him so freely. Her filter vanishing like the stars, come the rising sun.

"Yes, it's all so easy for you, isn't it? Any obstacle in your way can just be killed off."

He shrugged simply and anger flared inside Bulma. Her cheeks blossoming with red colour as Vegeta tilted his head slightly to look at her. "Power and strength before all else. We can not help being stronger than the weak."

"You and your kind are savages. Horrible beings who prey on beings less physically apt than yourselves." Bulma spat.

She saw a nerve throb in his temple and Bulma immediately regretted her words. She took a small step back, still clutching the openings of her robe defensively. Vegeta ignored her words though. He apparently did not come to her to argue his race's actions.

"I want to know who you are and what powers you posses."

Bulma frowned at this. "I am from Earth and I am a human, you know this already. I do not posses any powers. I am not even strong enough to kill a bird here."

Vegeta snorted at this as his eyes roved over her. "Yes, you are a frail human. It is not your physical strength that concerns me however. You must harbour some sorcery that is bewitching me this moment. I want it to be removed immediately.

Bulma frowned at him and he snarled at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Liar." He hissed as he advanced on her.

Suddenly Bulma was very aware of how powerful he was and how puny she remained. She was alone in a room with him and he could do anything he wanted to her. If he was offering her death she would not complain. She had never feared dying since she had come here. On Earth she had considered herself too young and beautiful to die. She had a life planned out for herself. A schematic blue print, a master plan of what she wanted to achieve, perfected and brilliant. Plots and alternatives of how she would achieve them given the smallest occurrences of change. Here she had nothing but misery and no escape but the end of her life to welcome.

"All these … these things that I am seeing, I want you to stop making me see them now. Get out of my mind." Vegeta spoke threateningly.

He was extremely close to her now. His nose almost touching hers. His scent wafting through her nostrils and Bulma thought she was going to lose consciousness to her thoughts again. Her eyelids became heavy. "I don't know why this is happening. I'm seeing the same things that you are but only when we're near each other. Only since I've met you." Bulma whispered softly.

She was afraid that she was losing her mind. Hallucinating. That stress had finally driven her crazy. Now she knew there had to be a reason for what she was feeling. That Vegeta was seeing the same things she was. That these memories or visions or whatever were not her own making.

Vegeta stared at the human curiously. He had not been able to fight off the memories that flooded his mind when she hand touched his shoulder earlier on. It seemed that he was losing control of his own mind. He wanted it to be some trick she was playing on him so he could have her undo it. Or kill her and be done with it. Yet there was no denying that she was being honest about her doubts. That scared him more. He had seen her lose conscious thought during his escorting of her to her chambers and he realised then what was afflicting him was ailing her too.

There was no person they could ask to aid them as anyone who let slip this to the King would ensure their immediate executions for treason. He could not touch her for fear that he would slip into the darkness of his own mind again however her sweet smelling scent was intoxicating. Almost inebriating him and somewhere, deep inside him her scent was like a spark to his lust.

"Don't." He said sharply as he watched her eyes flutter close. He knew where she was going.

"I can't … help it." She whispered. Vegeta growled at her weakness and he tried to move away from her but his feet felt cemented to her carpets. His brain refused to heed his words.

Unable to think of anything else, panic setting into him worse than anything the mighty Saiyan Prince had ever felt Vegeta reached for her. She gasped as his fingers touched her and suddenly that spark of lust exploded inside of him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It raged like a fire of need in every nerve ending of his and somewhere along the line of pulling her against his body he was detached from his mind.

There was nothing in the darkness now but the feel of her heated flesh beneath his palms. The scent of her roamed around him and her every breath came in the same lengths as his own. So in sync. So together. One.

Vegeta's eyes flew open as he heard his own heart run away from him. He did nothing to catch it. "Look at me." He demanded and he saw her eyes open at his command. Blue, blue, blue. His hand went to her face lifting her chin up, trying to find some clue as to what the fuck was happening here.

Something deadly and inexplicable clawed at his chest and Vegeta growled as if to give voice to the beast inside of him.

Bulma was gasping for breath, her chest heaving as her eyes looked into Vegeta's. A want that she had never felt before stormed inside of her like thunder, lightning and lashing rain on a dark night. Unpredictable and fierce but enthralling and powerful at the same time. Bulma failed to understand why Vegeta was the one exploiting her need. His presence was warm and alluring, so contradicting to his normally ice cold projection of himself and she wanted to lose herself in his body. She felt suddenly like she was in a familiar place. Safe territory and she wondered how that was possible when she had seen his violent nature only moments ago while he had attempted to strangle her maid.

"Vegeta." She whispered and it sounded oddly familiar, intimate. There was nothing questioning or uncertain about speaking his name.

He grunted in satisfaction and for the first time in months Bulma's lips lifted into a tiny smile. One of real joy. She knew not this man yet she felt like she had shared her entire life with him. Why was that? She had not even spoken to Vegeta before a couple of days ago.

Bulma watched as his head lowered towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. His lips were inches away from hers and Bulma's parted in anticipation. But he did not kiss her. He remained still, his eyes watching. Something like improper excitement thrilled inside Bulma like hot chocolate on a cold winter's night. He was giving her a choice, allowing her to decide if she wanted to be kissed, to kiss him back. He had demanded she look at him by never breaking eye contact with her because he wanted her to know it was only him that she was looking at.

Bulma moaned a sound so unlike her, as her hands went into the thickness of midnight hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling only a sense of desperate rightness then, unthinkingly she pulled his head down to hers.

The moment their lips met it was like a thousand moments of pleasure already felt had erupted between them. Tongues met and the depths of their very souls mingled into a reunion that neither knew their bodies were only playing hosts to. There was so much more to their passion and fire than simple chemistry. Still the power of such ardour scared them both, even though Vegeta would never make such admissions in his own mind, let alone aloud.

They jerked away from each other simultaneously. Vegeta immediately turning away from her as Bulma's hand latched at her chest, one hand touching her lips. They were pulsing. Literally. It was not a sensation you read about in books, there was nothing figurative about the feeling. Her lips were literally pulsing. Swollen and thoroughly kissed and they actually buzzed in appreciation.

"Oh Kami." Bulma muttered giddily as the taste of Vegeta made her salivate for more. She needed more.

At her mumbled words he turned around to look at her. His eyes shone like black diamonds, smouldering with that heated look he gave her. So predatory and feral. It made her bones melt in her body and Bulma was certain she would swoon dramatically then.

She was uncertain if there was some higher power using Vegeta and herself as the punch line of a universal joke but she knew thinking on it now would be pointless. Too futile. She watched in fascination as he stripped off his amour and flung it at her wall. It cracked against the stone and Bulma jumped slightly. He was angry.

Furious that she elicited such passion inside of him. Livid that she was his father's and not his and murderous that he did not care then. Bulma shivered. There was fear in her body but something else. Excitement. It was a _wrong _kind of exhilaration, so rich and suffocating that she ached to indulge in it.

'_Breathe.'_

She told herself as she watched him stand before her, completely naked. He was so utterly perfect, confident in his own skin that Bulma thought she would overheat from the sight of him. Shoulders so broad they made up for the lack of his height. Arms so strong she wanted them to wrap around her. His waist was neat and tapered, thick thighs and lean claves and even his long feet were enticing. Were feet supposed to be so manly and sexy?

Her blue eyes took in the length of his hardened cock and she blushed for the first time since she had lost her virginity. Oh how she wanted him.

There were no doubts, no fear. None of the common sense that normally infiltrated two people engaging in sordid affairs that could be the death of them. There was only a visceral bond egging them on, drawing them to one another, insisting what they were about to do was _right_.

'_So right!' _

Bulma walked towards him unable to help herself. Her small palms lifted to his chest. She touched Vegeta like a blind woman using her fingers to picture a face in her mind. Her hands spread across him like she would feel the work of a finished tech project she had worked the entire night on. Every dip and indentation of his body made her wet beyond reason.

Curiously there was no desire to lose her mind now, instead her brain was too mushy to form coherent thoughts. She saw only one word. Sex. Yes, it hand been too long since a man had looked at her with a desire that was not fuelled with a need to take. So long since she actually wanted to sleep with a handsome man. Hysteria; over her situation Bulma decided was what she was feeling.

Her fingers trailed down the lines of his firm stomach and just as she was about to lower her fingers his hand descended on her wrist. His eyes opened and Bulma wondered if she would ever get tired of looking into the depths of him. She saw herself in his eyes and it made her crow inwardly in a victory she did not understand.

But there was noting soft and inviting in his touch. He was careful not to use force on her but he was not considerate of leaving bruises she noticed. It was an invigorating sense of fervour. Raw and untamed. He pushed her hands away from him and Bulma glared at him. He smirked then. A small tilt of his lips to one side but Bulma felt her back arch in desire for him. A dark chuckle escaped Vegeta's throat and she wondered if she had ever heard anything sexier before.

"Patience Dia'bou."

Bulma knew he called her a witch in Saiyan yet she couldn't help but feel like it was an endearment of some sort. She knew she had always had a proclivity for bad boys, this however was taking it to a level of extremity. Vegeta was a Prince of a race that she had come to loathe but her mind seemed defiant to place him under that category. Some part of her being that she recognised as humane rebelled at her body for such perverse behaviour. Still she was too overwhelmed to feel anything but burning lust in that moment. Nothing in her mind could convince her to escape now.

He pulled at the closings of her robes almost violently and Bulma was completely naked to his eyes. There was no going back now. A blush stained her entire body, she knew because she cold feel every inch of her skin trail with heat.

'_On fire.'_ Bulma thought to herself nonsensically.

That was when he ripped the sides of her gowns. Only for a moment Bulma thought her shoulders were going to pop from her sockets at his force but then the ends of her robe gave in. Stitches ripped as material fell apart. She was coming undone like that bloody robe.

Bulma watched as he dropped the silk to her carpet and she waited. Stood there like a stupid moth near a flame. She knew it was going to burn her, that she was playing with something out of her league but still she stood there – waiting. He reached out and grabbed her arms again.

There was a moment of stillness as emotions and feelings gushed between them. Passion and need that seemed to not come from them but belonged there all the same. Images and distorted voices throbbed through Bulma and Vegeta's minds but it was overpowered by their own desire in the present. The edges of old memories catching alight amongst the flames of their potent, raging lust until it was only them now. Their passion.

Vegeta plunged his tongue into her mouth again, dominating and strong. The feelings of pleasure he aroused tingled through her tongue and into her throat, wading into Bulma like waves crashing onto shore.

Her hands roamed his large back as her fingers tried to memories every corded muscle like a musician familiarising herself with a new instrument. Knowing the right key would make the perfect sound. Then she found his tail standing upright in tension and Bulma stroked it. Scraping her nails into the soft fur. That was when he made _thee_ noise. Vegeta released a sound that was caught between an animalistic growl and purr of pleasure and the sound reverberated through Bulma making her shiver in pleasure.

"Fuck." She heard Vegeta curse as his mouth trailed heated kisses along her neck. His teeth grazing along her skin as he made his way lower. Bulma's head flew back as she mewled in pleasure.

Vegeta found one peaked nipple and lowered his mouth to the pink bud. Bulma jerked as his mouth sucked around it and Vegeta's head reared back. The sensations that the touch of his mouth brought on her were overwhelming. They seemed to be like two starving animals. Unable to control the primal urges that flooded them. Bulma lifted her head again to look into Vegeta's eyes. He was unfocused and lost and she wondered if he had ever been that astray before. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed and Bulma resisted the urge to grin at her power over him. She settled for giving him a cocky smile. He snarled at her and instead of fearing him Bulma ached for him.

He turned her around so fast Bulma shrieked. Vegeta flung her away from him and Bulma fell hard into her soft four poster bed. Adrenaline mixed with her desire to make her want unbearable. Vegeta was on her bed quickly after he roughly pushed her thighs aide and settled between her. Bulma lifted her center towards him as his cock nudged at her entrance and she wanted so badly for him to be inside her.

Vegeta groaned at her wetness rubbing against him and he knew then if he did not enter her he would die from the wait. He was within her in one strong movement and Bulma screamed in pleasure.

As they rocked in sync with each other their breaths mingled as one, the ride to pleasure deriving from something else, something more.

Bulma and Vegeta were drowning in the sensations that overwhelmed them. Their breathing ragged and desperate. Emotions whipping at them like electricity through cords, sizzling into their skins. Minds shattered as control slipped from their precarious holds. Flashes of times and moments long since past that only they could witness played in their minds until they had no choice but to give in to the darkness.

The intertwined couple in their minds moved against a night sky imbedded with stars. They rolled in a green, green field where flowers romanticised the air surrounding them. Finally coming to rest atop a rock where lava gushed from around them. She arched into him, he drove deeper into her. She rode above him and he gripped her waist to keep her with him. She touched him and his control exploded into a million pieces. He kissed her and she failed to remember to breathe, only his breath in her mouth feeding her lungs.

"Vegeta." She called his name as he fucked her with a speed that she could not help but lose herself to, and he came undone by her voice coupled with her clenching walls sheathed around him.

They were not back from the dizzying heights of the uppermost pleasures as yet however. His forehead pressed against hers. Only no head splitting pains followed their forays into the depths of their minds this time. A sense of completion and coming home filled Bulma like she had never known before. Vegeta had never felt that whole and powerful in his life until that moment. Nothing else seemed to matter.

As always though such moments could never last. When the eyes opened reality invaded dreams and broke through fantasies. Blue and black clashed with despair and fear. Anger and confusion. Vegeta immediately jumped away from her and went over to his discarded clothing.

Bulma felt hot tears well in her eyes. The question what just happened seemed to knock incessantly at the doors of her mind but no one answered. What was she to do? She gathered the sheets around her, so crumpled from their carnal affair and held it to her as if it would protect her.

When Vegeta put on his armour he turned to look at her. She refused to look away from him. Holding her head high even though her lower lip trembled in confusion. She knew that what they had just indulged in was punishable by death. She wondered then if that was his plan. If he was going to try to get his father to kill her for her unfaithfulness. Wasn't her demise his intentions she had heard when he had spoken to his King. Bulma suddenly felt dirtier than the nights she spent here before. Sullied and ruined like the stained sheets on her bed.

A head ache began to form as it beat against her skull and Bulma watched Vegeta rub his temples, a long suffering sigh hissing from his lips. Before she could speak she watched as he approached her bed.

A million thoughts were running through Vegeta's mind then. None of it actually measured to the weight of uncertainty he knew. Contradicting with the compulsion to act on some of his thoughts with a certainty that he did not understand. Some of the things he had seen in his mind when he had been fucking the Earthling were too dire to contemplate. There were so many images and sounds bashing into his skull he could not make sense of any of it.

There were things that he had not even thought about in all his years of existence but was feeling with this woman. A woman who belonged to his father. His King. And Vegeta could tell that she was completely innocent in all of this. That she was experiencing what he was as well. That there was something more happening between them that neither understood. There was only two things though that Vegeta was absolutely positive of in that moment. One; he could no more control himself with her as a new born Saiyan could contain their Oozaru when exposed to the full moon. Two; that was not saying much and could only end badly for them both.

Yet still he walked over to her. He did something he had not done after his mother had given it to him. Tilting his head he removed the coppery chain from around his neck. Held in his hand was the Saiyan crest. A beautiful turquoise jewel with red markings upon it. Something he was supposed to have given to his mate for protection and recognition. Something that he knew without a shadow of doubt belonged to this woman. Not just because in one of those blasted memories he had seen it lying between her breasts as if it belonged there.

Vegeta placed it on the end of her bed but she made no move to even look at it. Her eyes were glued to his face, accusatory. Her welling tears like acidic rain on his skin. He walked out on her then knowing that when she looked at his memento she would know he was coming back.

* * *

She stood before him, bare to him in every sense of the word. Not a stitch of clothing covered her body, nor a façade worn that hid her emotions from him. Love and adoration danced in her eyes and curled her lips. Flushed cheeks spoke of ardent arousal and heaving chests breathed desperate desire.

Their eyes locked and the blackness in his was gone. Want and need for her burning in his pupils like molten gold. The brown of his gaze sparking her lust for him to ever new heights. She wondered briefly if she'd ever tire of him but the butterflies in her stomach and the wetness between her thighs told her it was impossible.

So she silently asked herself if he'd grow weary of her and he came forward then. His eyes never leaving hers. He licked his lips and she stifled a low moan. Throwing her head back as his gloved fingers trailed her neck and chest. She reached to touch him but he caught her hand in his fiercely. Her eyes opened to look at him questioningly.

"Not yet." He told her and this time she groaned her displeasure.

He loved to play these games with her. Make her wet before leaving her to wait as if reminding her she was only his. He took heart from making her plead for him to touch her and allow her to let her feel him while he dominantly weakened her, until she was dying with need for him. That she supposed was his aim. To lull her into such a portal of need she knew no escape. Never wanted to flee for fear of losing him.

"Vejita, please do not mock me." And that cocky grin was back on his face. Feral, visceral. Animalistic, primal. He was so masculine and feline at the same time. Like a black panther. Lazy yet deadly in its power. She come across no one sexier and she doubted she ever would. Not in this realm or the other.

He took a step back and Bulma hissed at him like a dangerous snake ready to attack and this time he chuckled. There was nothing humorous about it. It was dark and sinister almost. But she felt no fear from it; instead it sent shivers of want skittering up her spine. So she shuddered.

"Come with me then." He offered her his hand, that raspy voice of his lazy and teasing again. She would have almost called it playful if not for the intent etched in his dark, eyes. Blasted, treacherous eyes.

So she stepped forward without hesitation and placed her hand in his. Showing trust and intimacy. Her tiny palm fitting neatly in his large, calloused one. His strong fingers closed over hers and she loved the difference his tanned skin showed against her pale hands. She did not feel trapped, she felt safe. So she turned to smile up at him. A glorious smile that made angels glow, not the halos that graced their heads in heaven as so many mistakenly thought.

The moment Bulma looked up though, she felt fear latch at her like tentacles of dread when his thick fingers squeezed her hand painfully. His grip cold and harsh now. She tired to pull back from his hold but he was far too strong for her. Bulma cried to be released but the white of Vegeta's eyes turned a blood red. Tears of crimson liquid rolling down his cheeks. She noticed her own nails were full of red as if she had scratched at his eyes herself. Bulma cried out in terror as he pulled her into him, thrashing wildly in his arms.

Bulma awoke gasping for air. She jerked at the sight of Vegeta watching her, a deep frown on his forehead. She swallowed and took in a long breath, reaching for her water goblet and ignoring the man who had been present in her horrific dreams once again.

The days following that first eventful exploration into sex with Vegeta was like a reprieve from being a slave. Bulma Briefs could pretend for hours in time that she was a young woman again, enjoying the fruits of a virile young lover of her choice. Only her dreams had changed.

They were no longer simple visions of them as lovers but of Vegeta hurting her in some way. She did not know why she was dreaming such things. At first she had hid it from Vegeta but as she awoke more violently and afraid each time she could deny her nightmares no longer. She had literally attacked him once and he had forced the truth from her. He had seemed somewhat shocked and Bulma had felt unnerved by it. She was glad when he had left but she was hurt he had not offered her any reassurances. A simple _"I would never hurt you"_ would have sufficed as she had taken into consideration how reticent Vegeta was.

Then she had worried. Frightened that he would not come to her again. Scared that it would be the end of something that had given her such intense, mindless pleasure. Hours that had removed her from her new world, taking her into a place where she could truly live for some time. He had come. While she was in her bathroom and the sex that had ensued after that had stolen Bulma's breath away.

He had stripped before her and no words were needed. Only the sound of her thundering heart could be heard and she watched. Stared like it was a show for her eyes only. When he stepped into the large stone tub she had still been too confused to move. Simply staring at the perfection of his body. When he leaned over her and kissed her it was enough to make her toes curl. He had lapped at the water on her neck and body as his hands massaged her full breasts. Kneading her flesh with tenderness she had never expected from Vegeta. Something she had not thought him capable of. Then his tail touched her clitoris and Bulma found herself too coiled up to even contemplate what he was doing. Under water.

She couldn't see anything except the shadow of his eyes. His tail flicking against her and with every touch she felt a promise that he would never hurt her. The action stunningly intimate and in no way deplorable. She knew why when his mouth was against her earlobe then.

"A Saiyan would only use his tail on his mate." He whispered.

Bulma's eyes widened at this admission and she realised then why Saiyans had always kept their tails wound tightly around their waists while having sex. Then her eyes scrunched closed as Vegeta replaced his tail with his cock. There was nothing fast and furious about his lovemaking. Every stroke was languid and tormenting. In and out. Bulma could only arch into him. When she could no longer take the anticipation building in her for fear she would combust Bulma wrapped her legs around him. She took for the first time in months. And he gave her. She shuddered around him, clenching and spasiming as he stilled. His body jerking his release into her.

"Bulma, I'd never ... " Those words had meant more to her than he would ever know. He had not needed to elaborate because she had understood.

They had not spoken of her nightmares again and Bulma had a feeling it tormented her worse for her feigned ignorance. The visions becoming sharper and more gruesome. Like tonight.

Of course nothing ever stayed the same. Bulma was not very partial to change. She would be lying through her perfectly neat set of teeth had she said she liked change. As a scientist she accepted the continuity of it, heeded it yes, but never fancied the thing. So change came to pass.

That day would be the start of the most cataclysmic event Bulma had ever been apart of. Which was saying something because Bulma had always been adventurous. Had found herself many a times staring at a deadly enemy hell bent on world domination or seeking immortality. This however was far more dreadful than even Bulma could handle. Worse so as it took away the one thing she had come to care for here.

Tonight was different. The slimy political dignitaries would go back to where they came from. The King would be free to unhouse his personal consort from her hidden chambers like he was the evil sorcerer and she the unfortunate princess. The prince in this story could not help her lest he lead them into imminent execution.

Bulma got up and walked towards her chamber doors. Opening them for air so she did not feel stifled. He continued to watch her and his eyes bore into her back. It annoyed her and for the first time since she met him she wished he would leave her alone. She looked outside to see fierce storm clouds gathering above them like red hues of thick smoke. The air outside crackled with golden lightning and vicious thunder rolled ever closer. There was a storm coming and Bulma felt herself shiver at the thought. She best be prepared when it did. Even with the tempestuous weather Vegeta-sei's sun could be seen in the near distance. The raging red rays rising quickly. Night was never very long in Vegeta-sei.

"It is almost sunrise." She told him.

At this he raised his eyebrows and sat up in bed. He leaned back, his hands behind his head as he watched her. The crimson sheet lying precariously low on his waist. His tanned skin delectable against the red sheets. Bulma turned her head away from him. She was frustrated with how handsome and desirable he was. Her affliction for good looking men with dark tendencies too alluring for her to resist.

"Is that a dismissal from you chambers my lady?" He sneered at her and Bulma was reminded that he was a prince and she was the frog here.

It angered her and that could have been the reason for her next words. "Your father will be free from morning. This is our last night."

Vegeta glared at her for so long Bulma was surprised her hair did not catch alight from his furious stares. She knew the moment he got up from the bed, not because of the sound his dressing movements made but because her shoulders slumped in relief the moment his eyes left her back. Bulma felt him before he could tug at her shoulders and turn her around to face him. His aura was so dark and overwhelming that his presence always seemed to magically pull at her every never ending when he was near her.

He grabbed her chin in an almost painful hold and Bulma refused to look away from those dauntingly black eyes. He searched her, trying to read past her defiance and anger. She would not let him. So he kissed her, his mouth brutal and harsh. Demanding. Although she closed her mouth to his, one touch of his hot tongue on her lips, thick and wet and Bulma could only moan as she opened her mouth to him. Vegeta broke of the kiss abruptly and Bulma's lids were still closed. When she opened them she saw his eyes were triumphant. A dark grin on his sensual lips.

"You belong to me, no matter whose whore you are." He spat.

It could have been that he had never expected it, that he was still revelling in his pride and ego but Bulma slapped him. Her palm stinging from hitting his face. He was stunned. His eyes simply unfocused as he pondered what had just happened. She doubted he felt it at all but his skin still showed the imprint of her hand and from the ache in her wrist she knew there had been some force in her slap.

She knew his words were punishment for her slur earlier on. Bulma understood that they came from a place of jealousy and helplessness at their situation but it angered her. It caused the parts of her old self, still present within her no matter how broken and distorted, to rise up.

Vegeta grabbed her shoulders harshly and held her to his chest. Bulma now standing on tip toe saw unrestrained anger in his eyes. Stormy, reverent fury like the night outside. He snarled then. Vicious and frustrated Vegeta turned her around and slammed her against her door, the glass rattling slightly. Bulma gasped as the cool door pressed into her naked front while the heat of Vegeta's body scorched her from behind. There was no preamble or foreplay as Vegeta thrust his thick, hard length inside of her. He held onto her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh but Bulma did not spurn his rough movements. Instead she leaned closer into him, her head lolling wantonly over his shoulder as she tried to melt into him, become one with him. Her angry passion only serving to heighten Vegeta's ardour. The Saiyan Prince's raw grunts and Bulma's panting caused them to spiral into screaming pleasure. She stumbled slightly as he pulled out of her.

She would not beg him to save her. To let her go, to help her escape this life. He was still selfish, some part of him that allowed her to remain with his father so he could lay his own perverse claim to her. It should bother her. It was supposed to anger her and somehow it didn't. As if she expected it, welcomed it. She was justifying his behaviour and it made no sense. Then again, when did anything here make sense.

"Just go." She whispered as she placed her palms flat against the French like windows to steady herself. She would not crumble before him. She would not show him any weakness.

* * *

"I dare say that I missed you my little." Bulma shuddered as the King touched her face in an almost affectionate gesture.

She was pleased he was too gullible in his own sense of inflated self worth to think that she was disgusted by him rather than turned on. That he was too arrogant to realise she had spent days on end fucking his own son right under his nose, in his castle. Some wicked feeling unlike any she had known before spiked inside of. A dark desire almost. Something bloody and vengeful was spewing venomously inside her body. She was no longer a sweet smelling beautiful rose to be admired.

"What the – "

Bulma's eyes opened as she heard the King gasp for air from near her. Focusing her mind from once bloody, deprived thoughts Bulma looked up to see the King chocking in front of her. One strong hand clutching his naked chest the other holding onto his throat.

Bulma stood there, staring at the King in horror. She was paralysed, her limbs incapable of moving. The King stumbled forward and with a tiny shriek Bulma moved out the way. He fell onto his desk, his face ghastly pale and his lips an open mouthed blue. Blood dribbled down his chin and Bulma watched transfixed.

She turned to look at the closed door to the King's work Chambers before looking at the King again. He was on his knees and Bulma realised in that second that she did not want to help him. If he died she would be free. Vegeta and her could be together. Hysterical laughter touched her throat but she chocked on the sound when the outside windows to the King's chamber burst open.

Wind howled its way into the room, scrolls of parchment rolling of the large wooden desk and ink bottles shivering against each other in glass clatters. Rain danced its way against Bulma's skin and she realised then that the dark and stormy night had just been introduced to her life now. Everything was about to change …

* * *

**Author's Note:** As always, thoughts and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. Flames are not! Thank you for reading. :-)


	4. Chapter 4

Written for the We're Just Saiyan Google + Community's 'The Royal Challenge'. Prompt: Damsel in Distress

As always, thank you to those who took the time to read and review or PM me. ;-)

* * *

**Damsel in Distress**

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

"_What was your greatest accomplishment?" She asked him once. She loved to speak; he suspected it was a human trait really. A feeling that falsely made you seem closer to someone else. He found that he didn't mind it however. For when she spoke he felt as if he saw more of who she was beneath her sad demeanour or wanton desire. He saw _her_. _

"_Living in the darkness."_

_She stared at him for countless of moments, a small frown on her delicate forehead before she turned to look at her mirror curiously. Her blued head tilted to the side as she started at her reflection – almost longingly – before finally she blinked and met his eyes in her mirror. _

"_Yes, when you have no other choice."_

Vegeta paced his chambers as his tail lashed furiously behind him. Taunting thoughts designed to drive even the strongest mind wild wormed their way through his mind. No matter what he did, be it training even, he could not wipe the disgusting images of Bulma and his father coupling from his mind. Thunder roared above him and he walked outside to his balcony.

Rolling back his shoulders and forcing in lungful of sultry air into him he levitated slowly into the lashing rain. The downpour was heavy and he enjoyed its sting upon his flesh, lifting his head back as he stood there. Almost as if he were hoping the water would purge him of his memories of her.

"_Back on Earth, if I'm correct in my time calculations, it would have been snowing now. I miss the snow. Whenever it covered the world it made everything seem pure and untainted again." She sighed wistfully and a part of Vegeta wished he could take her to planets where snow could be experienced. "What is your favourite weather, Vegeta?"_

_When she spoke his name in that intimate, familiar tone he thought he could deny her nothing. Added with the soft strokes of her playful fingers against his hardened skin, he realised he most probably could not. _

"_The rain." He answered her simply, thinking his answer aptly described how she felt about snow and she looked at him in surprise. Her big, blue eyes almost childlike and innocent in that moment. A curious brat yearning for more knowledge from a trusted and admired elder. "When I stand in the rain it feels as if the heavens are washing away my past transgressions. After the storm has passed, I am untainted again." _

He could easily protect himself from the downpour but far from disliking it he enjoyed it immensely. The heat from the grounds of Vegeta-sei was starting to make its way up around him and he dropped his head back down. He looked forward into the horizon, golden lightning breaking through blood red skies and thick tumultuous clouds storming overhead.

She did things to him. The weak Earth woman who he could crush like a bug beneath his gleaming Saiyan combat boots. She was disarming and for all the power he possessed and she lacked, he could not harm a single lock of beautiful blue hair on her head. Oh how it frustrated him, riled at his superior Saiyan prejudices, yet no matter how hard Vegeta tried to dissuade himself from the witch, he only returned to her to fall deeper into her allure.

"_I wish we knew what was happening to us. None of the books I've checked thus far though read of sharing memories. On Earth there was talk of karma, living past lives and such but I'm not so sure now."_

_He looked at her carefully, his face impassive. "Why not?"_

"_I'm a scientist, I believe in facts not fiction."_

"_There is always some fact to fiction though, isn't there? We have quite a few legends ourselves Bulma, although I've never heard of one where a woman and man became attracted to each other from mere memories. Let alone a non Saiyan."_

"_Does it bother you that I am human?"_

"_It bothers me that you are not mine." _

Vegeta realised then that that was not wholly the truth. While he could not bond with Bulma as she was not a Saiyan it did not stop her from being his mate. Vegeta had always thought that he would mate with a woman that would simply be of the same standing and power as he was, a perfect match for him. A female who would produce a heir for his throne and then complete her duties as an obedient, unobtrusive mate. A Saiyan woman who knew what was required of her. Bulma was not that woman – but she was his. On a level that he had never experienced before.

It was not a matter of selfish belonging, of obsession or possession, merely a shared bond of potent completion that only they could give to each other.

"_Do you believe in soul mates, Vegeta?"_

"_I have not heard of souls mating before." _

"_Neither have I. Although I think that whatever has been happening between us goes beyond the description of mind blowing sex."_

"_You are a brazen wench whose uncouth tongue should be punished mercilessly." Vegeta growled at her._

_She simply winked audaciously and stuck out her pink tongue at him, making her look years younger than she really was. He could not remember when she had become so playful and bold before him or when he had allowed her to speak to him with such open informality, if he ever really had, yet she did so without a trace of fear on her lovely face. _

_Hours later after she had rolled her tongue around his erection as "punishment" and he had made her throat raw by screaming his name, she had said, "Our souls definitely belong to one another." With glimmering eyes that looked like precious jewels in the flickering candlelight of her room. _

Vegeta close his eyes briefly before taking in a deep breath. When he opened his ebony gaze again it was brewing with determination and fierce pride. The time had come, he realised. The time to finally conquer and claim.

* * *

"_Why is it that Saiyans do not have a word for love?"_

_He knew she was well enough versed on the language to pick up words in a conversation and then decipher entire sentences but he stared at her curiously for her question. _

"_We have never believed in such fickle sentiments."_

_She smiled at him then, a beaming smile that suggested she thought he could believe in it now._

Bulma's eyes opened as she heard the King gasp for air from near her. Focusing her mind from once bloody, deprived thoughts Bulma looked up to see the King chocking in front of her. One strong hand clutching his naked chest the other holding onto his throat.

Bulma stood there, staring at the King in horror. She was paralysed, her limbs incapable of moving. The King stumbled forward and with a tiny shriek Bulma moved out the way. He fell onto his desk, his face ghastly pale and his lips an open mouthed blue. Blood dribbled down his chin and Bulma watched transfixed.

She turned to look at the closed door to the King's work Chambers before looking at the King again. He was on his knees and Bulma realised in that second that she did not want to help him. If he died she would be free. Vegeta and her could be together. Hysterical laughter touched her throat but she chocked on the sound when the outside windows to the King's chamber burst open.

Wind howled its way into the room, scrolls of parchment rolling of the large wooden desk and ink bottles shivering against each other in glass clatters. Rain danced its way against Bulma's skin and she realised then that the dark and stormy night had just been introduced to her life now. Everything was about to change …

Vegeta stood, having just pushed open the King's French windows like a strong gust of wind himself and Bulma stared at him disbelief. He was soaking wet, his uplifted hair falling all around his shoulders like black silk. His chest was bare and he reminded her of Tarzan. So primal and untamed. Delicious and erotic.

She clutched the ends of her thick dress and she felt like Jane then. Only nothing was going to be as easy or romantic as a fairy tale. Bulma then turned to set her blue eyes upon the flailing King. He was on his knees, gurgling incoherently for his son as he struggled for air and Vegeta stared in horror, paralysed only for a moment.

A sudden burst of rage and hatred welled in Bulma's heart. A black fury that was like swirling winds of bitterness and Bulma licked her lips tasting sweet vengeance and freedom close by. She wanted to go to Vegeta and fling her arms around her lover, kiss the Saiyan Prince in the dying presence of the King, lick the pearly droplets of water rolling down Vegeta's chest as the King's eyes widened at his son and lover's treachery.

"Father." Vegeta's voice felt like a resounding slap to her face and Bulma shivered as she wondered where those hateful thoughts had been spun from. She felt like some black widow spider whose webs were only silky for enticement. "What did you do?"

Vegeta's voice held none of the gruff tenderness he normally used to speak to her with now and it irked. She desired to yell at him and ask him why he was here. Why did he come now when his father was dying naturally? Bulma wondered if Vegeta had really come for her? Had the thought of someone else touching her after she had washed of _his_ scent from her skin bothered him? Had the sounds of the noises she made when he pleasured her pierced his eardrums as he thought about her mewling them for someone else until he started to bleed …

Bulma's dark thoughts were cut short by Vegeta lifting his father effortlessly onto his shoulder and carrying the King away. Bulma felt hideous, awful and terrible. She felt a sense of complete bitchiness flaming inside of her but all she could think then was … _'I hope the King dies!'_

* * *

Had Bulma not felt so conflicted she would have felt heart wrenching empathy for Vegeta in that moment. His wet body giving him such a daunted look, like a stray pet that had just been left on the side of the road. Hopeless.

He flung Saiyan medics around by the scruffs of their necks and barked orders like the haughty Prince he really was. Bulma felt a moment of uncertainty at having followed Vegeta to the med bay. Had it been to make sure the King died? Or was she there because she wanted to offer Vegeta a shoulder to cry on. If the King did not live she could tell Vegeta about Earth. Bulma could convince him to visit her home with her. She was positive she could trust him.

She was not reading too much into their relationship. They shared a kind of otherworldly bond obviously that drew one to the other. Bulma could only think they had been lovers in their past lives. Stranger things had happened. With all Bulma knew of late she was hard pressed to think of anther reason that would make more sense.

Then Vegeta turned around and his black eyes were blazing. She was positive that hell had flames as black and desolate as his eyes. Bulma felt an involuntary shiver ripple from the depths of her belly and spread right through to her finger tips and toes.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice was cold and harsh and Bulma had to resist the urge to glare at him.

"_Are you always this grumpy?" She teased as she massaged his tense muscles._

_He rolled his shoulders back as he slowly but surely relaxed under her continuous kneading. She placed an open mouthed kiss on the hollow between his shoulder blades and she saw his tail twitch at the action. She smiled wickedly as she grabbed his arse. Vegeta jerked upright slightly and Bulma rocked back from the sudden movement. _

"_What the hell was that?" He growled at her and Bulma felt a sudden excitement race through her pulse. _

_This time she smacked his arse harder. And so Bulma found her self lying under Vegeta in one quick movement, faster than her human eye could see. Excitement and adrenaline rushing through her veins, heating her blood and making her heart miss beats in its hasty racing. Instead of replying Bulma lifted heavy lids to him and Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he watched the sea of desire roil in her blue eyes. The colour deepening until she parted her lips and licked the pink, plump flesh suggestively._

_He wasted no time in descending his head but the moment his firm lips touched her soft mouth he reared back. "Fuck." He growled. She had bit him. Sunk her teeth into the tender flesh inside his lips hard enough to draw blood. She was not sorry for it and at his growl, accompanied with the way his black eyes flashed in carnal desire at the taste of his blood, Bulma knew that it would be her that would be repentant. "You take too many liberties with me woman, have you forgotten that I could snuff you out like a candle flame?"_

"_Have you forgotten that I trust you to remember who I am?"_

At the time she had been referring to her Earthling genes. Her fallible weaknesses that he could easily exploit while they made love, but she knew now she had meant her entire self. She trusted him and she had given him that because he had trusted her. They had had so many conversations into the early parts of the mornings or when she couldn't sleep after a particularly terrible nightmare that they had learned things about each other that only they knew.

Their relationship transcended all boundaries, all sanity but somehow they had founded a comforting peace in the centre of the raging storm that was their desire and emotions. And it made sense to them. Theres was not a conventional relationship, she doubted they would ever have a normal one but Bulma realised that that didn't matter. Because she would always be Bulma and he would always be Vegeta; which meant they would always be together. She believed that from the moment she started to believe that they were past lovers, soul mates.

Bulma took a step back to show respect in the presence of others as the King lay twitching on the bed like some stomped cockroach that refused to die. His right hand still clutching at his chest. His eyes were closed but he seemed to be in a great deal of pain. Bulma wondered idly if Saiyans had heart attacks.

She was pushed to the shadows of the room while people worked around her. Soon the harried footsteps, wailing beeping and anxious vices stopped. Everyone taking in one collective breath and Bulma held hers, waiting. She felt her disappointment when the stillness was punctuated with a steady beating from the monitor attached to the King. He was alive, he had been saved.

Then she watched as a head of spiky, unruly black hair came forward. He removed a white mask off his scared face as he looked at Vegeta, who was staring from him to the King, in an urgency that frustrated Bulma for some unknown reason. She knew Vegeta cared deeply for his father, she however wondered if he'd ever choose his father over her. In their situation she felt it a logical concern.

She turned to look at Bardock herself, his shiny black eyes, so much like Goku's – his youngest son – he looked at her with undisguised suspicion before turning to the Prince of Vegeta-sei.

"The King shall be fine, Prince Vegeta. He seems to have picked up and alien disease of some sort that has been attacking his heart. We have managed to isolate the problem and eradicate it. He simply needs rest for now."

Vegeta's stiff shoulders sank in relief as he walked towards his father. Bulma deciding that she had had enough of excitement – and disappointment – for one night made to leave lest her discontent at the King surviving showed. So she turned to walk out of the infirmary after the other Saiyan meds filed out.

As she walked down the now familiar corridors she was surprised to see a tall figure standing at the end of one already. She stopped short in surprise, uncertain as to what he was doing there looming in the middle of her walkway like some self imposed body guard.

Bulma remembered the first time she had met Bardock. She had wanted so much to talk to him, as he reminded her of Goku. However there was an air of indifferent, cold strength about him that Goku only wore during battles. Bardock though was wise and in tune with everything around him and Bulma had the distinct impression that he knew more than he let on.

She had told him about Goku, prattled on about how strong and brave and wonderful his son was. His flesh and blood. Maybe she had just simply needed to grieve so she had spoken about her best friend to Bardock in length. From how she had met Goku to his marriage to Chi Chi and Gohan. At the mention of a grandson Bardock had stilled momentarily, and Bulma only witnessed this as she had been watching carefully for a reaction from the Saiyan, before he continued as if he could not hear her and Bulma sighed.

While she hoped Bardock would make some noise of acknowledgement that she was talking about his youngest son – the one he had sent of to space and had not bothered to look for again – Bulma had started to think she had been wrong. There was really no emotion that Bardock held for Goku.

She had gotten angry, upset and she had lashed out. Spurting horrible, vile words of Raditz and while none of them where lies she wanted a reaction from the impassive Bardock. If she had thought Vegeta was stoic, the Prince seemed sociable now compared to Bardock.

When Bradock had completed his inspection of her, after ensuring she could not fall pregnant or had any diseases on her he had turned his back on her as dismal. Bulma had deflated again and resolutely pushed herself of the metal cot and down on her feet. She made her way out with the bitter taste of the medicines he had given her still lingering repugnantly on her tongue and she thought that that was what disappointment tasted like. Having never been denied much in her life before, the continuous string of refutations was not something that sat well with Bulma. Ruefully she thought that being the hero was not all it was cut out to be. That the price the noble paid was far too high.

In the hallway, unsure of what she should do Bulma walked straight towards Bardock, shifting uncomfortably as his intelligent eyes roved over her. "Did you do that to the King?"

Bulma's eyes shot up to Bardock's. "But you just said – "

"I know what I said." He interrupted her harshly and Bulma took an involuntary step backwards.

He had always had a calm voice but that was maybe because he had never spoken directly to her before. Bulma began to feel panic rise inside of her. She had not done anything to the King but what if she had? Why would Bardock lie for her? This was becoming more and more ridiculous by the hour.

"Then why are you asking me such accusatory questions?"

She watched as Bardock gave a very uncharacteristic sigh of frustration as he ran his large hand through his unruly hair and across the back of his neck. For a moment Bulma's vision blurred as she remembered Goku. She missed her home dreadfully. She had lost herself to the passion Vegeta provided her with, to the emotional sustenance someone had finally fed her with. If she could not have home, at least she could have Vegeta. Someone she wanted, who wanted her. A being who made her feel safe and precious.

"_Is this just the memories and the inexplicable lust, Vegeta?" She watched him frown at her question before he looked way from her. "Please Vegeta, I need to know."_

_Bulma had come to enjoy the hours she spent with him. The times she tried to fit all the pieces that was Vegeta together by prying information from him. It exercised her brilliant mind and allowed her a better understanding of him. She enjoyed the moments of complete silence where they simply seemed to find companionship and understanding in each others silence and steady breathing. _

_He sighed then and turned to face her. "I will not lie to you woman, if there had not been something more at work here than just the attraction I feel for you then it is highly unlikely that I would not have pursued this." When her face fell he scowled at her. "That does not mean however that I do not … I am _fond_ of you."_

_Bulma looked up at him searchingly. She knew that _fond_ from Vegeta was an elevated declaration of expressing his feelings for her. However it was not enough. She did not want him to profess undying love for, that would certainly be impossible, but what she wanted was for him to tell her in Vegeta language what she meant to him. _

_She was aware that Vegeta expressed himself in very different ways, when he was forced to do so at least. So Bulma had tried for days now to understand Vegeta better. While it may have taken months, years even to do so in normal situations, their shared bond and memories allowed Bulma insight into the Saiyan Prince probably more so than anyone else. The next question she asked went beyond the descriptions of fond, however she needed to know. _

"_Would you kill for me?"_

_She watched his eyes narrow at her. He knew she despised killing of any kind and she also knew that he possessed no conscience in taking the life of someone he deemed unworthy to live, something that disheartened her more than she told him and so Vegeta thought long and hard over why she would ask him such a question. When he realised she was not simply jesting his eyes un-narrowed. He knew the answer though, he had known for a while now. If it was required, if he had to kill for her, no matter whom it was …_

"_Yes."_

Bardock watched her for awhile, his narrowed eyes scrutinising and Bulma could not help but flush under his gaze. There was nothing lustful in his dark eyes that made her shake in desire like Vegeta's did but there was something knowing in his stare. Once again Bulma felt like he knew more than they thought he did.

"Puella." Bardock said softly, looking around the empty hallway as if he did not want to be over heard. He rubbed a hand down his face and looked around once again before leaning down to her. Bulma's eyes went from left to right as she searched Bardock's expression, in that angle she could see light purple bruises under his eyes and while his customary amour gave to his built, without his large lab coat on Bulma felt he looked a little slim since the first time she had seen him.

"Bardock, what about Puella?" Bulma felt afraid in that moment wondering if Puella had confided in someone about her affair with Vegeta. She did not think her maid would be disloyal to her but what else could Bardock be referring to?

That was when they heard heavy footfalls behind them. Bardock stood up straight again and stepped back from Bulma.

"Ask Puella. She will explain it all, the books that you have been searching through do not have the answers."

With that Bardock brushed past her and when Bulma turned around she found he had vanished like something she had conjured up from her imagination. Bulma was pulled from her reverie by someone clearing their throat behind her. She turned around again to see Nappa standing before her. He still somewhat scared her with his towering frame. She felt like Jack climbing the beanstalk when she should not have every time he looked at her.

"Prince Vegeta asked me to escort you to your rooms." Only Vegeta trusted the brute because Nappa had been the Prince's caretaker when young. Nappa's dim voice told her and Bulma nodded while she walked towards her chambers again. She noticed Nappa looking at the place where Bardock had disappeared from but Bulma was too engrossed in her own thoughts to pay Nappa any attention.

What could Bardock have possibly meant when he told her to ask Puella? What exactly should she ask the girl? Bulma had spoken to her maid, confiding some of her quandaries to the girl but Puella had told Bulma that she should look in the library for help. In hindsight Puella had never really answered her questions. Bulma wondered how much Bardock knew about her and Vegeta or if he was simply just grasping at straws. The Saiyan was a medic but that did not mean he could magically tell what was going on in Bulma's mind. Unless he had already seen this when he had done an examination of her. However that could not be true since she had only started these visional experiences since after Vegeta came.

Bardock could have just watched her as an observant person, and intelligently guessed that she was searching for some elusive truth. Nevertheless Bulma decided that talking to Puella again could make a difference. Maybe Puella had spoken to Bardock on her condition and there was some medical assistance available for her predicament after all.

Only when Bulma entered her rooms, she found Vegeta waiting there for her instead. He had obviously dried of since she had last seen him but he still only wore pants and nothing else.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked timidly noticing his brooding aura. There was something angry about him and he seemed to appear as a caged animal did. His back stiff, his tail bristling around his waist and strong fists clenched at his rigid sides.

Before Bulma could react she was pinned against a wall. The wind had whooshed from her chest and she choked for a moment as she caught her breath again. Ki binds were placed upon her wrists that had gone above her head without her noticing. When she tried to move her hands from the bonds Bulma hissed as the rings burned her skin. She kept her hands against the wall then, as much as she could while trying not to come into contact with the ki again.

She stared at Vegeta and while she felt anger bubbling beneath the surface, right then her fear was like thick ground that masked any fury she felt for his cruel behaviour below it. Bulma focused on him, trying to keep hidden her every expression of pain, panic and resentment from him. She strove for an impassive look that bellied the fright swarming around her.

"Did you do it?" This time he gripped her throat like he had done Puella's a while back and Bulma refused to cry for air. She did not want to show him how much it hurt to breathe as he placed pressure on her windpipe. She knew he had the power to crush it in his fingertips and it frustrated her that he would use this much of force on her. That he had promised he would not hurt her but was doing so now. It was worse since the ache he brought upon her was not just physical but emotional too.

Bulma bristled at his question but she chased the snarky retorts that came to mind away and looked at him defiantly. "No."

He stared at her for a long while and she looked right back at him. She had nothing to hide. For a few moments she thought he wouldn't believe her, his eyes were so cold and murderous she wondered if she had ever imagined the warmth she believed he held for her there. Her throat burned and uncontrollable tears leaked down her cheeks. She was helpless to wipe them away though.

Finally Bulma slid down to the floor as Vegeta released her after the ki bands fell away from her wrists. Bulma felt her head pounding with familiar sensations as the scene that had played out in front of her had been so familiar. It had seemed so known to her.

"Bulma." Vegeta was crouched before her now, a gentle hand tugging her face up.

Indignant anger flooded Bulma and she jerked her head away from his fingers. "Fuck off, Vegeta." She spat as she knocked his hands away with hers.

She saw his eye twitch before he stood up again. Bulma rose slowly too and made to walk away from him, looking to shut herself up in her bathroom. Before she could go however Vegeta caught her arm and even when she tried to jerk off his hold he held her forcefully. Bulma stamped her foot down in frustration.

"I had to ask." He told her simply, his words only upsetting her further.

Tears streamed down her face but this had nothing to do with physical pain. "No, you did not." Bulma contradicted and his hand tightened on her arm. "You heard Bardock and you should have trusted me. If I had however, would this be your choice? Your father?"

She saw Vegeta's eyes widen for a moment and he opened his mouth. Bulma silently begged him to choose her. To save her. She was in distress; couldn't he see he was her salvation, her hero? That if he cared about her as much as he promised her he did, then the least he could do was save her. To Bulma's utter horror Vegeta just closed his mouth slowly again. A nerve ticking in his jaw.

She let out a cold, harsh laugh, void of emotion as if it were echoes of the emptiness now inside of her. "Then why did you come at all, Vegeta?" She saw that he had only just remembered he had been the one to interrupt the King and her earlier on.

It had been a long night and Bulma had no intention of entertaining the Prince again. Her head was throbbing and her emotions were too tumultuous to have control over. She desperately needed to be alone. She wanted to, _needed_ to cry and rage, break things and curse too.

This time when she tugged her arm form Vegeta's hand he did not hold onto her.

He let her go.

* * *

That night the nightmares came more furiously than ever. This time Bulma awoke drenched in sweat, her head feeling like it would explode any moment and her heart racing as if she had just ran a marathon. She reached with a shaky hand for her water goblet and clumsily lifted it to her lips.

When she placed her water aside again she was about to fall back onto her bed when she squeaked in fear. Vegeta was sitting in a large chair across from her. He was watching her intently, a book open on his lap as a small ball of ki danced directly above his head to give him reading light.

Vegeta never woke her from her dreams, he had once told her she could only defeat them in her sleeping form and waking her up would only make her nightmares resurface. She wondered though if what he said made a difference in their situation. These dreams weren't ordinary subconscious thoughts and they both knew it. She knew Vegeta was having similar nightmares but whenever she asked him he refused to tell her about them. No matter how much she badgered him. When Vegeta made his mind up about something he could not be persuaded.

They stared at one another other, each with large amounts of pride and stubbornness gathering between them. Bulma though thought that she had nothing to apologise for. He was the one who should be grovelling at her feet. Bulma fought back a smile as the idea of Vegeta begging anyone was completely absurd. She could not see the prideful Saiyan bowing before another, even someone stronger than him.

The silence became overwhelming for Bulma and she looked down at her sheets as her ears burned slightly. She did not want to speak to him and he was a master at silence. After a while she realised that no words were needed as Vegeta stalked towards her. Inside Bulma was a riot of colourful joy that shone throughout her like the radiance of a beautiful rainbow.

This was Vegeta's way of apologising and Bulma wanted to jump and whoop as he came to sit on the side of her bed. Bulma fought from rolling her eyes as he simply just sat there. He had extended the olive branch though and Bulma knew it was her turn. Ecstatic with Vegeta's non verbal apology Bulma lifted a small palm and placed it on a tense shoulder.

"Vegeta." That was all Bulma said before Vegeta's lips were on hers. He never had been comfortable with words that in anyway spoke of emotions.

Bulma realised then that she could never stay angry at Vegeta. It was completely impossible. He was remarkably endearing and he made Bulma feel untouched and pure. Everything about him made her feel alive, as if she were experiencing life for the first time. His every touch was like a shot of fire licking at her insides as he sparked through her veins. Her blood sang as it pumped emotion into her. Maybe, just maybe they would be fine in the end.

* * *

He was furious. He could not believe that his son had brought about such shame directly to his throne. What was Vejita thinking by running off and mating with some whore who was not even Saiya-jin. He needed to show his son that women where cunning, conniving, scrupulous beings who you could not trust.

The King had to break his son, steer the boy back down the right path. Some travels later he found the little trollop and his son playing house in a small shack, not worthy for royal blood to be seen dead in even. He was furious at his son but he knew that Vejita needed to see the green haired slut for who she truly was.

So the King ordered his strongest warriors to hold back the Prince. He eventually had to step in himself and plunge his fist into Vejita's stomach to subdue his strong son. The Prince hunched over from pain as he coughed up blood, but the King ordered that he watch.

"Father. Please I beg you, don't do this. Leave Izevel, leave her alone and I'll come back. I'll come home."

"Disgusting, pathetic fool." The King snarled into the Prince's ear as he walked behind Vejita. Then he lifted a large boot and kicked the young Prince in the back. Hearing the satisfying crack of breaking bones and the scream of agony his son howled the King walked back to the whore.

Only her hair was no longer a sea green and her eyes were not emerald green. Blue tresses swished around her and eyes the same entrancing shade flashed dangerously at him.

"Bulma?" The King asked in bewilderment.

The King awoke in the present with a start. His head felt too heavy for his shoulders suddenly and his skull ached fiercely. He wondered if he had fractured his cranium and that was why he was in the infirmary with such awful pain in his head. The King closed his eyes and tried to recall the last thing he had been doing. Surely no one was powerful enough to send him to the med bay from a spar?

Suddenly the King's earlier activities came forth. He had been with Bulma when suddenly he could no longer breathe. His heart had felt like it was expanding, ready to explode and the pain in his chest had been simply unbearable. The King rubbed a hand down his face and made to leave the bed when a voice stopped him.

The King of Vegeta-sei looked around only to find himself all alone in the room. "Who's there? I demand you show yourself this instant!" The King boomed.

Suddenly searing pain burned the back of his head and he stumbled backward gripping onto the bed for support as his mind rolled into an impenetrable blackness. He struggled to open his eyes but his lids were too heavy to heed his command and the King could only shake his head. That was when he realised the voice was coming from within his own mind. His voice.

He was screaming. Words of treachery and blasphemy could be heard. Then there was screaming and anger. The King outwardly winced as he watched his own throat being slit open by Bulma. He watched as if it was an out of body experience, his soul manifesting into a pale, shimmering image, a dulled form of his once living self. He saw his dead body lying still on crème carpets as Bulma stood tall and ethereal above him, a dagger held in her hand.

The worst was when the King noticed Vegeta, his own flesh and blood standing over his dead body. The smirk on the vision of the King faltered as his eyes widened. Instead of killing Bulma for murdering him, the Prince spat on his body. Then the King watched as Bulma turned to give Vegeta a sultry smile. She lifted the dagger to her mouth and licked off his blood, her pale face glowing with a strange, golden light as her eyes and hair turned green once again. Only Vegeta grabbed her by her arms and kissed her. Swapping _his_ blood as if in some nasty victory ritual.

When the King was finally released form his own mind, he noticed his palms were bleeding from where his nails had dug into his flesh. He did not understand what had just happened to him but the headache that pounded his skull was too furious to ignore. It felt too real not to be. The King closed his eyes and massaged his temples for a moment when he suddenly stopped in mid stance. His eyes widened and his hand lowered slowly from his forehead. Vegeta had come to his chambers while he had been with Bulma. The Prince had showed up unannounced. While his son had saved him, why had the Prince barged into his work chambers that night? The King had asked to see Bulma because he had not had an audience with her for days on end. He had summoned her as soon as the last dignitary had departed.

Immediately the King rushed out from the med bay. He made sure to lurk around softly, taking a secret passageway only he knew off as he ventured inside the walls of his massive Castle. When the stone wall opened for him he swiftly made his way down to his antechamber. He stood for seconds outside while he leaned against the door. He stopped to think rationally for a moment.

If his suspicions were true then bursting in would only make him irrational. He would do something that he would regret. He deserved to punish them, oh yes, but he wanted them to suffer first. He would not be defeated. He was the King of all Saiyans and no one, not even is own flesh and blood would defy him. He would have to be wise about his actions though. As much as he was loathe to admit it, as in his dreams, his son was somewhat stronger than him and he could not risk a one on one battle with the Prince.

Slowly the King opened his chamber door and went into his rooms. He pulled back a painting from a wall and before him was a large mirror like surface. The king immediately pressed a few dials and the sleek screen beeped on. The day that Bulma had broken her mirror and the King had seen the bruises on her hand, he had realised he needed to keep somewhat of a closer eye on her. Even though Puella was always on hand the only person the King truly trusted was himself.

Therefore he had had a simple monitor ingrained in her mirror. It recorded all of her activates during the day as she always spent her time with him at night. He realised then that for the past week she had not been with him at night. However he had not thought to change the recording times. Also as of late he had not bothered to watch Bulma's actions for a while as she seemed well settled in her new role. Normally the King fast forwarded through the redundant images on screen but tonight he stood and watched.

Watched until he saw his son enter Bulma's room. Until Vegeta materialised before Bulma as she was using the mirror. He watched as Bulma and Vegeta conversed for a while and even though he could not hear them, the King had never seen his son so animated before. It was not an extremity of expressions; however to someone who knew the Prince as well as the King did, it was perceptible. The King felt anger burn inside him. Bulma's blue eyes had never shown any kind of desire for him before and now her gaze was not even focused on the mirror. She met Vegeta's eyes in her mirror, though she faced the King. Even though she fucking belonged to _him_. In a fit of rage the King plunged a fist into the screen on his wall until it sizzled around his bent fingers into useless shards of broken technology.

However the imaged remained burned in his retinas. He clenched his fists as he took in a deep breath. How dare they deceive him that way? He vowed he would have the last laugh, he would.

* * *

Vegeta looked over at Bulma pouring over hundreds of thick, dusty books while he readjusted his armour and pulled on his gloves.

"Since father is still in the infirmary I'm required to go into the city today." He told her simply. She did not look at him while she flipped some aged pages of a large book, her bold blue eyes scanning the words quickly before deeming the page uninformative and turning it over. Then only did she turn to look at him.

A quill was stuck behind her ear and a smudge of ink was visible on the side of her face. Vegeta had watched her spend time with these books before, he knew she was highly intelligent. The intellectual conversations they had had confirmed his beliefs. Also her witty retorts and quick fire tongue was quite enthralling. Yet whenever he found her like this, messy and untidy as if she often liked to get her hands dirty she looked utterly desirable.

He could never get enough of her. She was becoming like an obsession. The kind that always had him training his body and mastering his power to grow stronger. She was like a narcotic that caused withdrawal if you went far too long without it. He knew it was unhealthy but each time he tried to ignore her presence and spent much time without her, he missed her like a physical ache. He had tried

He was slightly disgusted by his behaviour and yet every time he forced himself to think differently his mind rebelled against it, threatening to turn him crazy if he let such thoughts invade his psyche.

"That's fine. I'm spending the morning here. There must be something in these books that will help us." She sounded sure of herself. Very determined and there was something else there. A flash of excitement in her blue eyes. A spark of thrilling need to challenge her mind. The devilish, little minx was searching for something to stimulate her brain as much as to assist them with their little problem.

With a small smirk he lifted one hand and rubbed at the ink on her cheek, for the first time uncaring that his pristine white glove was messed with something other than an opponent's blood. Bulma smiled at him. A radiant smile that caused all the lines on her face to vanish. He dropped his hand and left. With the prospect of returning to her Vegeta felt the first real smile he had ever shed in all his living years.

* * *

Bulma sighed in frustration as she flipped through another book. She slammed it down on the table hard before banging her head on top of it. She could not even find Puella today and with the other night's dramatics she had forgotten about what Bardock had told her. It had even slipped her mind to mention to Vegeta after their spat and consequent make up.

He had left her for his training and she had felt like he had been avoiding her for some reason. Then he had shown up here to tell her he had to leave the Castle for a while. She had tried to act nonchalant about his absence but inside her heart felt weighted. Had he left because he needed some time away from her? She suspected that it was difficult for Vegeta, a Saiyan Prince to go against everything he had so strongly believed in all his life. Also to not have control over all his senses and emotions would make him want to fight it for a while. It did hurt though that he wished to distance himself from her.

Bulma groaned unhappily but a light shifting had her head snap up. "Puella." Bulma shrieked as she jumped up from her chair, almost toppling over a volume in the process. "Where have you been? I have been searching for you from this morning."

If Bulma expected her maid to apologise for such unprofessional behaviour she was disappointed. Instead Puella simply looked at her with wide, emerald eyes. Her mossy coloured hair pulled back as always, her brown skin strained and tense.

"What is it Puella? Is something wrong?" Bulma asked when the maid looked at Bulma and the blue haired woman felt a foreboding shiver erupt goose bumps over her arms. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

"It is happening. I only feel that you should not have suffered this fate yet you were chosen nonetheless."

"What?" Bulma asked in confusion as she watched Puella. However some part of Bulma knew exactly what Puella's cryptic words were referring to. "You know, don't you? What's happening to Vegeta and I?"

The maid nodded again. "The answers you are searching for will not be found in these books. Come with me, I shall show you." Bulma looked around the room hesitantly before staring at Puella.

"Where?" Bulma asked sceptically and Puella smiled softly.

"Do not be afraid, Bulma. You will not leave this room, only your mind shall travel."

Bulma bit her lip wondering momentarily what happened to being addressed as Mistress and why Puella was suddenly radiating an angelic like glow from around her. "Come."

The mud skinned alien sounded so cajoling and honest that Bulma felt her feet moving of their own accord towards Puella. Her maid extended a hand to her and Bulma tentatively placed her hand in her maids.

The moment Bulma's fingers touched Puella's hand she felt a current of electric like sensation shift through her fingertips. It was not a hurtful or uncomfortable feeling it was just something she was unused to. However as the bolts tingled though her entire body Bulma felt warmth spread through her being and her feet immediately felt as if it were floating above the ground.

"Close your eyes." Puella commanded softly and Bulma immediately complied.

The moment her eyes closed Bulma's mind went black. Only there was no pain accompanying the darkness, like when she normally withdrew into her memories. Immediately she felt like she was falling, falling through a dark abyss with no end in sight. Suddenly her feet touched solid ground and in the present Bulma's body jerked slightly.

Again Bulma watched all the memories that had tormented her for so long now. Only she was no longer the one experiencing the kaleidoscope of thoughts. This woman was taller and possessed a faint glow about her. Her hair was green and her almond shaped eyes were the same colour, not rounded and blue.

Bulma watched as the woman walked towards a man and immediately Bulma recognised that flame shaped hair. "Vegeta?" Bulma called out.

She expected the pair to turn around and look at her, ask her what she was doing there, but they were oblivious to her. Bulma watched transfixed as the green haired woman placed her head on the man's shoulder and when Bulma saw a tail twitch, she knew instantly he was a Saiyan. Again Bulma called for Vegeta as she watched the couple interact. A part of her felt icy betrayal stab at her heart. Bulma quickly walked around to look at the man as snippets of the other woman's words trailed into her ears. She knew those words though. She had heard this conversation before.

"_You think it so easy to leave my kind? All that I know, all that I was created for?"_

When Bulma stood before the Saiyan she realised that this was not her Vegeta. This one's eyes were a dark chocolate brown in the daylight where her Vegeta's was pitch black. This Saiyan's hair Bulma noticed had red streaks in his black mane, glossy against the streaming sunlight. Bulma noticed that unlike her dream when the Saiyan here turned around to the green haired woman who looked so much like herself, he held the female like a priceless treasure. He inflicted no harm on her.

Suddenly black mist swirled around Bulma and she lifted an arm to cover her face instinctively. When Bulma opened her eyes, she found the scene had changed. She was standing in an old mud like house with a thatch roof. The air around it was poisonous and slightly thicker, Bulma swallowed as she took in deeper breaths to satisfy her lungs.

"Hello?" Bulma called out but suddenly she heard screams echoing around the room.

She watched in horror as familiarity made her heart lurch. The green haired woman was lying flat on her back, below a man that resembled the Saiyan King. The scene reminiscent of Bulma's misfortune with Paragus and Brolly. Bulma watched in horror as the green eyed woman looked beguilingly off to the side.

Bulma gasped as the Vegeta look alike was forced to watch his lover being raped. There was a sudden, shrill and rabid scream as blood splashed against Bulma's face. She touched her face with cold, shaky fingers and when she looked at her palms, crimson liquid was smudged there. Her eyes widened as she looked over at the Saiyan King. He was lying on his back, a large slit across his neck as blood reined freely from the injury. The woman sat up now and she held a bloody dagger in her hand. Bulma watched as the green eyed woman wept silent tears that mingled with the red on her face making it look like she was crying blood. Pain for the woman made Bulma run forward to try and comfort her when the woman raised her left hand to her shocked mouth.

A simple gold band gleamed on her ring finger and as if that sparkle urged him on, the Vegeta look alike howled in fury. Gold light burst forward and Bulma was blinded for a moment. She realised then that the woman had not just been the Saiyan's lover.

She had been his wife.

When Bulma opened her eyes again she was standing in a white room. Bulma blinked to refocus when she noticed the green haired woman standing next to her husband, screaming at him for something. Only now Bulma could not hear what they were saying to each other. Speech was not necessary though, the couple's expressions and gestures speaking louder than words could. As Bulma watched the two argue fiercely there shapes disappeared like a hollow projection before repapering like a trajectory blur in another part of the room. Bulma turned around and around as she watched the couple dematerialise and rematerialise from one spot to another. Their arguments becoming increasingly violent with every disappearance and reappearance. The next vision made Bulma want to throw up.

She turned around again and she was no longer in a white room but outside. She recognised the city. The sand dunes and white pillars were all familiar to her. It looked like the main arena on Vegeta-sei. Only more dilapidated and less structured than it was now. And Bulma looked up to see she was standing at the centre of the sand pit while the stands stood clear all around her, high above her. Saiyans were filled to the brim in the arena.

"Tuer!" They were chanting, fuelled with angry rage but an excited glee and anything that fired the Saiyans up that much could not mean well. Bulma knew this.

'_Kill.'_ They chanted in Saiyan and Bulma shuddered as sand snapped at her heels. A ghostly wind blew heat waves around her.

"Vejita, please. Please don't do this. I love you." Bulma whipped around in surprise as she heard a voice so similar to hers calling out.

Only the way she enunciated the vowel in Vegeta sounded oddly different to Bulma. Yet Bulma was horrified as the nameless woman's husband simply sent forth a burst of ki towards her. It was only then that the pungent stench of gasoline registered in Bulma's nostrils.

"No!" Bulma screamed as she ran forwards to try and save the broken woman. It was too late. Soon Saiyans all around started sending shots of pure ki straight towards the burning woman and Bulma watched in horror as the green haired woman burned alive. The woman fell to her knees, a heart wrenching scream sounding like it was being torn from her lungs echoed amongst the thousands of maniacally cheering voices.

"Stop this. Stop this!" Bulma cried and pleaded as she retreated from the heat of the fire. She ran towards the Vegeta there and grabbed his shoulders.

But he did not look at Bulma, remaining as still as a statue even when she shook him. His face was cold and empty, there was not an ounce of emotion in his eyes. He was dead. Then he finally looked down at her. Only his eyes weren't black anymore.

"Bulma?"

Bulma's eyes shot open as she realised she had never left the Castle's. She was squeezing onto Puella's hands but dropped them immediately and took a shaky step back.

"I …" Bulma stuttered as she looked around the room, then at her pale, trembling hands. No blood stained her hands, nothing. She was just as she had been. Only her body was shaking. Violently. Bulma fell to her knees. "Oh Kami." She bent over and clutched her stomach. Tears flooded down her cheeks and Bulma emptied the contents of her belly.

She sobbed. Choking on her own saliva and struggling to breathe through her fast congesting nose. "They … they burned her. Alive. She was innocent." To speak more of it would be too dreadful.

"Yes, yes Bulma she was." Puella bent down towards Bulma and with a wave of her hand the vomit on the marble floors were gone.

"Who are you?" Bulma asked.

"I am Puella. The woman whose suffering you have just witnessed Bulma was an ancient angel. Strong and powerful. I am a direct descendent of hers. Izevel."

Bulma stared at Puella, unable to offer her maid – angel? – anything more then. So she simply watched as she dried her tears, noticing how pale and disturbed Puella too looked.

"Izevel was a guardian angel on Earth. Centuries ago, Saiyans come to Earth not unlike how they appeared in your time but Izevel had revealed herself to the Saiyan Prince then. They had fallen in love with each other. She had given up her powers and immortality to marry the Prince. Names have changed somewhat through the years, Bulma. Saiya-jin to Saiyan. Vejita to Vegeta but some things remained the same. The cruelty of the Saiyans, the laws of their kind. The features that were passed on from generation to generation. The King was furious. You've seen what happened after, Bulma. I shall not burden you by speaking of it again."

Bulma snorted. "How considerate."

Puella sighed. "I understand your plight – "

"No you _don't!_" Bulma shouted.

"Don't I?" Puella argued. "Izevel suffered brutally from the cruelty of this kind. You have lost your family and innocence because it was taken away from you. Both your pain is my pain too."

"What does this have to do with me? If Vegeta is carrying over some bad karma from a past life then why am I involved? I wasn't related to this Izevel woman."

Puella was silent for so long that Bulma felt her empty stomach roil again. She was certain she would bend over again and dry heave. "No. You're not." Puella looked down sadly before she looked up at Bulma sharply. "The Gods do not always agree with Fate. Fate leads you into situations, incidents, occurrences but you always have the choice to turn back, chose another part. It is only destiny the Gods can not prevent because in order for the Universes to co-exist there must be balances that do not interfere with each other."

"It was Izevel's destiny to forfeit her true self and become an Earthling however fate had led her to Vejita. She could have chosen anyone she wanted to but she chose the Saiyan Prince. That in the end bode unwell as you have seen."

"No kidding." Bulma spat sarcastically. Puella ignored her and continued.

"The Gods were furious because this was the destiny of one of their angels. They wanted her to become a human to help the Earthlings. To rid your planet of some of the evils that had taken to influencing your kind greatly. Fate should not have intervened. Then, when Izevel died she gave her immortal soul to Fate, requesting that Fate deliver her essence to a worthy home that would seek retribution in kind for her and to appease the Gods, her creators. She cursed the Saiyans to a life of damnation."

"Vejita's soul was sentenced to purgatory as well. Fate and the Gods decided that for repayment to be made two beings of equal standing to Izevel and Vejita must right the wrongs of the past for the well being of the present and future."

"Why?" Bulma asked suddenly and Puella looked at her in confusion. "Why weren't the Saiyans just left to damnation. They certainly deserve it."

Puella frowned at her. "I expected you to ask why you and Vegeta. Nevertheless, my explanation ties in with that. Saiyans in different times have never prospered since Izevel; they have always been wiped out from existence in malicious, ugly ways. However that can not continue. In other times Bulma, yours and Vegeta's destiny is always linked. If those links are broken, they break future links for next generations. If those future links continue to break, the Universe can be subjected to cracks in time and space. There would be no order to us. We all play a significant role in keeping the balance if things. Good, evil; light, dark. We are at the centre of it all. However if there is a tip in the balance, worlds will collide into each other, the Universe as a whole will come to chaos and erupt. Life as we know it will end."

"Vegeta and I have the power to do that? One couple." Bulma asked sceptically.

Puella shook her head. "No. You and Vegeta are not just one right now, Bulma. There are about a thousand different streams of time and there are about a hundred different you and Vegeta's. However if you are always destined to end before you start, or die without creating the next generation that is yours and his, you will cease to exist. It is not only about you. If your legacy does not exist, the lives of others you were meant to influence will end. Consider what you feel for Vegeta now Bulma, would you truly forgive yourself if you took away that, multiplied by a hundred, from every other Bulma and Vegeta out there right now? From your possible off springs?"

Bulma scrunched her eyes shut as discomfort laced her heart, like the ribbons of her expensive dresses that pulled at her waist painfully. Squeezing her choice from her, leaving her to bear such a gruelling burden.

"Think, Bulma. If you never met Goku, you would never have met Raditz. If Goku was not apart of you world, Earth would have perished long ago without its saviour, yes?" Bulma nodded. "As such, without certain people destiny can not be achieved and death is imminent. No matter which part you choose or Fate sends you along, you can not run from your destiny forever."

Bulma stood shakily while she nervously smoothed the creases in her dress before walking over to her books. She ran her hand along one shiny cover in defeat. "Why Vegeta and I?"

"It seems that Fate deemed you worthy of carrying Izevel's soul."

Bulma's hand stilled above the book. She had someone else's soul inside of her. Was she even Bulma then or was she simply a copy of someone else? She lifted her hand towards her chest.

"No." Puella said softly. "You posses a very powerful and capable aura. You may not be physically strong but mentally, you are the bravest, strongest woman there is. The soul that resides in you is your own. You have made it so. It seemed that only when Vegeta came here did your souls recognise each other and start to influence your bodies to satiate them."

"There is a reason the King's heart started to fail him the moment he touched you inappropriately, Bulma. When you and Vegeta accepted the inexplicable force that drew you together you unknowingly joined two lost souls. You consummated the power of an age old soul sacrifice and inescapably bound yourselves to the other. Fate chose you but it was you that accepted. Any other male who touches you in an intimate way now will have their heart explode from the curse of the old King's transgressions."

Puella, her faux maid who was really an angel could obviously read minds. Bulma's intelligent brain whirred with everything that she had just been told about the King however. "And Bardock, he knows, doesn't he?"

Bulma turned to look at Puella again, surprised to see a fond smile on her maid's face. "Bardock died in another timeline not long ago. Before he did however he was given the gift of foresight on a mission. As Bardock had already damaged his soul by killing so many he would have been sent to Enfer. A horrible afterlife that I can not speak of. However as he was a Saiyan the Gods offered him a reprieve. He was to come back to this time to help me with you and Vegeta. In return he saved Raditz from Enfer by sacrificing his son."

At Bulma's raised eyebrow Puella continued. "By being friends with Goku, his brother Raditz became the first Saiyan to help bring you to Vegeta."

"Oh what a marvellous path it has been since." Bulma spat.

Her head was pulsating and she was pinching herself ferociously to check if this was not some weird dream she could not escape. She felt burdened and very, very reluctant to go through with this grand scheme that the_ magnificent_ Gods, Fate and whoever fucking else had deigned her fit to partake in. It was like she never had a choice in the matter and surely that was what Puella had said, that one always had a choice. What a load of rubbish.

"If we refuse, Vegeta and I? If we run away?"

"You can not run from destiny, Bulma." Puella said ruefully.

"Well that's just fucking great, isn't it?" Bulma stormed now. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she shot icy, blue daggers at Puella. "What does it matter what I've been through? Who gives a shit about how I was besmirched and broken? Screw what Bulma and Vegeta feel, they're perfect for this fantastic plot that the fucking deities left upon them. Why can't the bastards up there wave their magical wands," Bulma rolled her index finger in the air. "… or point down their tritons," she sent her middle finger up at the heavens, "… or bloody snap their powerful fingers and fix things?" Bulma snapped her fingers resentfully in Puella's face, " … Why must we suffer because they couldn't keep check of their fucking Universe in the first place?"

Puella's mud coloured cheeks tinged slightly but Bulma could not tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Probably both. "There are certain things not even the Gods can interfere in for fear of upsetting the entire balance. These are also poor choices mortals have made. Vejita was so overcome by grief and anger, jealousy and bitterness that it overpowered the love he had harboured for Izevel. They have started this and now it needs to end." There was a stern finality in Puella's voice that not even Bulma could argue with and so she took in deep, calming breaths, reigning in her fast galloping temper.

Yet she looked away stubbornly from the angel. "I doubted you when you first came here, Bulma." Puella said softly again, her voice strained with emotion. "I worried you were not strong enough even though I could feel Izevel's soul inside of you. However you persevered, you grew and I am proud of you."

Bulma was simply too upset to accept praise into that movement. She knew she did not truly have a choice in this matter. As Puella had said, she could not run from it. A sad smile played on her face. "There is no way out, is there?"

"No." Puella said simply.

Bulma smiled humourlessly then. She could lose Vegeta. "Why haven't you told Vegeta this?"

"He may be more reluctant to believe it and I'm sure you are aware that Vegeta will try to resist his destiny."

Bulma nodded and took in a deep breath. Everything she had known and believed in was nothing but a fantasy. She felt it in her very bones. This horrible, dark truth was her reality. Everyday she had merely been inhaling a world that was props to her story line. Everyone else was simply extras to her show and the final act was upon her. She really had no choice, no matter what Puella told her.

"Fine. Let's play then." Bulma gave a smirk that would make even Vegeta proud.

Puella nodded. "I'll go draw you a bath before Vegeta arrives."

Bulma walked towards a window and stared outside for a long time. She took in a deep breath and sighed heavily, knowing there really was only one way out of this. "I can do this."

"Yes you can, my dear whore." Bulma whipped around to see the King standing behind her. "Without my son's help of course." His smile was twisted and cruel, his eyes sinister and fuming and Bulma realised that he knew. The King knew. Self preservation immediately spurred her into action.

Bulma ran towards some bookshelves as fast as she could but did not get very far before a strong forearm shot out from around a corner. She flew backwards as her chest was knocked painfully. Her breasts ached from the hit and she struggled to breathe as pain burned its way down her throat. She could not even scream.

* * *

Vegeta had not even flown halfway to the city when his mind had started to ache. It felt as if claws were tearing at his brains and his skull was about to crack. Explosive pain made his eyes close and soon he could not see where he was flying. With nothing else he could do to stop the intrusions to his mind, Vegeta stopped upon a large mountain to wait until it passed.

Images of a green haired woman and someone who looked just like him haunted his mind. He cussed loudly as he was no longer near Bulma to be having visions and the dreams only came when he slept.

Then as suddenly as it had come, it stopped. The images receded away into the back of his mind and the headache slowly started to fade into nothing but a dull pain, something he could manage. He took a few moments to regain his breathing and stretched his muscles.

He stood upon the erroneous rock formation, simply watching the plains of his land and thinking about Bulma. He decided the best thing to do was send Bulma away. Somewhere he could still see her without his father knowing. Then when he ascended to the crown he could bring her back. Vegeta didn't like it, he knew it would be difficult to be parted from her for any moment of time without knowing the true state of their bond, yet it was the most sensible option when things were currently so temperamental.

Vegeta grunted and readied himself to take off again when his scouter buzzed. "What?" He barked at the interruption.

"Vegeta." Nappa's voice sounded harried and fearful on the other end of the communication link. "It's Bulma."

At those two words, Vegeta shot off like a lighting bolt, his destination anew.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ha, so no matter how hard I tried I simply couldn't stop writing this chapter. Also, I wanted to add a little more substance to Bulma and Vegeta's relationship than just physical chemistry and a past bond. I suspect the last chapter will be just as long as this one but really I love writing this story and am very sad that this is the penultimate chapter.

Therefore I am so thrilled to see you guys are enjoying it too. I know this story will not appeal to everyone but for some reason every time I think of an idea now I come up with a story for it. I've never been attacked by this many plot bunnies before. Yay! Although, for the life of me I can't write something light. Like I had a completely different story planned out for these prompts (maybe I'll post that story eventually too) but it bored me a bit and I felt the plot followed a too familiar BV classic – notice I did not say cliché. So I just sat down and typed in my normal unhealthy, dramatic, twisted style and_ 'Izevel'_ was born.

But I will be challenging myself in the very near future in the hopes that since I feel I am at the peak of my writing to come up with a BV that's not so heavy with emotion as what I've written thus far. It's all about the growth, right?! Ah yes, enough rambling …

Much love,

Nova*


	5. Chapter 5

Written for the google+ 'We're Just Saiyan Community's' 'The Royal Challenge' and if you're not apart of the community yet … what are you waiting for?

Prompt: Breaking the Curse

Yes, we're finally at the end of this short journey so I will leave all ramblings for the end of this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**Breaking the Curse**

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

**KING** Vegeta stood tall and proud before the window his son had burst through not so long ago. He lifted the golden goblet to his mouth as he sipped deeply from it.

The knock on his work chamber's door resounded within the quiet room and the King called permission to enter without turning around to acknowledge whoever had stepped inside.

His mind was racing with thoughts and images, fast paced and blurry, some even incomprehensible but they were there. They were his in some bizarre way. They made the wise King remember an old legend his great grandfather had told him as a brat while educating him on the wiles of females. Regardless of race or culture.

"Sire." He could hear the uncertain submission in his subordinate's voice and he lifted his goblet to his lips again to avoid roaring in rage. "The Prince has arrived."

When the King finally spoke, his voice was calm and deceptively soft but the tone of it sent a shiver skittering down the messenger's back. "Then go and stop him."

Just as before the King could here the indecision in his subordinate's voice but he knew, to turn around now would break the stronghold he had on his anger. The waves of fury would come in a tumultuous flow that nothing and no one would be able to stop him.

He wanted to keep his anger in check to ensure they suffered. Long and hard.

"Of course, sire."

King Vegeta was unsure who would stand beside him, who would walk away from him and give their dying allegiance to his son; their Prince, but he knew the Prince was not infallible. He had weaknesses the King knew and could exploit. All he needed now was to ensure his son waned before he stepped in to deliver the final blow.

That was not the coward's way out. It was tactic and strategy. Sheer cunning and brilliance over impulsive charging in and brute force. That would the King's advantage.

* * *

He walked down the dark dungeons, his boots clicking softly in the silence as if every step he took was bringing him towards the end.

"Pri – Prince Ver – Vegeta. You are not supposed to – "

A beam of ki was shot through the guard's protesting, blundering chest as response and the Saiyan warrior fell back, dead.

The ki had not come from Vegeta though, rather from Nappa, who was walking protectively behind the Saiyan Prince. Vegeta knew this was not about emotions or feelings but the undying loyalty he had won from Nappa ever since he had been a cub. Now there was no one who would tread upon his path and tell the Prince of all Saiyans that he could not do something. If his hand that was crossed lazily over his chest did not move forward fast enough to deliver the unfortunate soul its end, then the guard behind Vegeta definitely would.

They had fought through dozens of soldiers upon arrival and Saiyan warriors who had tried to bar the Prince from the castle and Vegeta found it almost laughable. The King was obviously trying to weaken Vegeta, wear him out before the Saiyan made an appearance. Obviously he did not want to outright challenge the Prince and stand the risk of losing. Vegeta applauded his father on the idea, he appreciated cunning and shrewd intelligence. He would not fault his father for the King's actions, he expected no less. He had wronged his King and while he was punishable by every decree set in the stone of their great Arthra, he was not yet ready to give in.

There was no longer any uncertainty about his decisions. He would cross the borders of the Universe, scavenge the ends of his world and give up the pinnacle of his standing … all for her. And now, he would do so without batting an eyelash, not even with a second thought.

Because he was no longer the Vegeta he had been before he had met her. He had changed, in a short time given, but they were drastic changes. His mind, body and soul had undergone an evolution that he – one of the most powerful beings in the Universe – had no strength in stopping. And he had never felt more at peace with these strange, almost alien concepts that he now entertained, than he had with the notions that had been beat and lectured into him since he had been a Prince being groomed to take over the crown.

And he embraced it. He accepted it. Because this was always who he had been meant to evolve into.

"Where is she?" He demanded harshly from Nappa over his shoulder.

"Deepest cell."

The Prince repressed the indignant growl that threatened to rise from his chest and spill through his pursed lips at the thought of Bulma being held captive. Yet he pushed on. Vegeta knew that he was strong in mind and body and he could handle anything that awaited him. Nonetheless every time he placed one foot in front of the other he felt the distinct urge to run.

Not backwards but forward.

Maybe he could not handle _anything_ that was in store for him. Certainly is she were … He stifled the thought and took measured steps again. The castle he had spent his life growing up in seemed cold and unwelcoming. It must have been the foreboding stillness that promised the raucous retribution to come. The one that Nappa promised him his father was bringing.

Still Vegeta walked with his shoulders squared and the infinite grace of his regal upbringing. Finally he reached the last vermin infested, blood stained cell. A remaining guard took one look at the intimidating figures of Nappa and Vegeta, covered in blood and immediately bowed to them. Vegeta scoffed at the Saiyan but ignored him completely and with a snarl from Nappa the foolish warrior scuttled of like the useless bug he was.

Vegeta's heart jerked forcefully in his chest. An odd sensation since he was positive he had never felt his heart beat before. Not even in the throes of battle that brought victory to his bloody hands. Yet this slip of a woman had the unworldly power of reducing him to a wisp of weakness with one simple look.

There it was again. That blue, blue eyes coyly lifted to his. When she recognised him her eyes lit up with something that should have not existed in her stunning gaze after everything she had been through. A light that had no place in the darkness of a dank cave that promised eventual death.

He shot two ki blasts at the chains that held her hands above her head and she stumbled into him. Uncaring about the cuffs banded around her wrists she flung herself at him and coiled her slender arms around his neck. The cold of the metal chains against his warm flesh felt like her marking him as hers.

"He … couldn't touch me … we're cursed … this is old karma … I ... you … you're … we're …" Her sentences were broken with hiccups and sobs and Vegeta understood nothing of what she said.

Though somewhere in the back of his mind he saw visions of what she had obviously seen earlier on and he started to fit an incomplete, piece missing puzzle at the back of his brain. Yet then was not the time to try and figure out the picture it formed. His thoughts were too engaged on removing her from the planet. She needed to leave Vegeta-sei immediately.

He curved a strong arm behind the back of her legs and lifted her into his arms. She made no protest at his actions but to bury her face in the crook of his neck, hands wound tightly around him as if she never intended to let him go. Her tears burned into his skin but he set his face into stoicism as he walked.

It was a long march towards the docking bay but he did not wish to fly because he needed to keep her in his arms for as long as he could. Vegeta wanted her pressed against him to remember what her warmth felt like when he was forced to relinquish his hold on her. He would have been disgusted by his sentiments had he not known what he was walking into. The winds of his land blew around him in warning and he knew what he could be setting himself up for if he were to fail. Knew where every soldier that had aligned himself to his father was now.

When he finally approached the docking bay he saw hundreds of Saiyan soldiers standing in formation on either side of his personal pod. Vegeta looked at none of the somewhat shaky, uncomfortable forces there. He searched none of their faces and deigned not to acknowledge their presence there. It was obvious they were sceptical about attacking him. After all, how many times had he proven he could handle more than his fair share. Nappa towering tall at his side was an added bonus.

He was uncertain of how exactly the events would unfold. The Prince was surprised his father had not yet made an appearance but Vegeta knew that the King had no intentions of letting Bulma leave Vegeta-sei alive. Just as the King knew of Vegeta's intentions. Only Vegeta would die trying.

He set Bulma down gently on her feet and she turned to look around her in undisguised fear at all the warriors present at the docking bay. "Vegeta." She turned large eyes on him, so blue and encompassing, so beguiling that he could drown in them.

If he could use one word to describe her at that very moment, it would have been everything. She was everything – imperfections and all – that he had ever desired in a mate. Irrespective of her race, she was worthy to be his. Even with what he thought he didn't want in a woman, she had showed him how challenging and exciting, fulfilling even, it could be to have her as his equal, his match.

"I have programmed a set of co-ordinates into the pod for you. A safe place." What more could he say?

He watched as her eyes widened when he thought it should be impossible to do so and she bit her trembling lip before shaking her head wildly at him. Long, blue tresses touched his face lightly and Vegeta frowned deeply at her. This was not the time for her stubbornness. "Come with me."

Vegeta growled at her stupidity. Earthlings and their pathetic emotions. He grabbed her by her arms and shook her slightly as anger flooded into his head and burst forth from his tongue. "If I get into that pod with you, who will stop the Saiyans here – who are reluctant to attack and are hoping to kill you without challenging me – from blasting you out the sky? Killing you instantaneously? Tell me!" Vegeta demanded and she began to weep.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes and every drop stabbed at his chest, piercing ice into his veins. She flung her arms around him once more. He allowed the hug before gently pulling her way from him. He took her hand in his and twisted the manacle around her wrist until the bracelet was crushed brokenly within his palm. Doing the same to the other cuff and wrist.

Then she reached for his face with free hands, cupping it in her soft palms and she kissed him. Vegeta realised then that that was what sadness tasted like. Brackish with heart ache. Potent and dastardly.

He watched her turn to step into the pod before she stilled. Then she looked around over her shoulder and watched him. "Where do you want to go to when you die, Vegeta?"

He would have snarled at her useless question and pushed her into the pod, engaging take off himself had the expression on her face not been so … endearing. Had she not been utterly serious in a moment where thousands of eyes watched them, while making Vegeta feel as if there was no one else present besides him and her.

"Wherever you are." He knew that was what she wanted to hear. More so than that though, more so than anything else in that moment, he knew without a shadow of doubt that he would be there for himself too. He simply wanted that too.

"I'll wait then, Vegeta." She told him softly before she turned around fully and embraced him again.

This time one of his arms snaked around her lower back and held her tightly to him as he inhaled the scent of her.

One last time.

"Now go." He pushed her gently towards his pod but she shook her head. Vegeta's eyes narrowed at her resolute face and the vein in his forehead pulsed. "What the fuck do you mean no?"

Bulma bit her lip before giving his pod one more wistful look, as if to make up her mind and she turned around more certainly then, blue flames dancing in her gaze. "No, my place is with you. It always has been."

* * *

Bulma felt the last ounce of uncertainty at wanting to stay with Vegeta dry up like a rolling droplet of water on a red sand dune at his answer. She knew she did not want to be anywhere that Vegeta was not. This was her chance to go back home. She could leave and be with her family again but that was not the path she wanted to follow. So she clung to Vegeta because she knew that with every fibre of her being, they belonged together. No matter where fate took them to.

It was not a romanticised notion, it was simply destiny.

"Woman – " He growled out impatiently but Bulma was not hearing any of it.

"Look inside yourself, Vegeta. You know what we're meant for." She pleaded.

He sighed, because she was right. That did not mean he did not want to fight against it with every last breath in his body. He was a warrior and he stood to challenge it all. He refused to hear he couldn't. Then again, there was no point in fighting a losing battle.

"I …" He was at a loss for words.

"Come for me." She said simply and all he could do was nod.

They both knew in that moment what she was asking, what he was promising and it would be fulfilled. There wasn't a doubt in either minds what lengths needed to be crossed, the boundaries that needed to be broken, just as they knew that it would happen.

With Bulma by his side a sudden surge of power and strength coursed through his veins that were once starting to frost over. The magnitude of the ki he felt rising within his being shocked even him and the Prince turned to face his people, one hand still curled around Bulma's wrist as she stood beside him.

"Come forth and fight if you will. But I promise death to whoever steps forward to challenge their Prince." He allowed himself a small smirk as warriors all around shifted uncomfortably before exchanging indecisive glances at one another. "Or bow before the strongest warrior in the Universe and I shall bestow honour and glory upon your shoulders and unto your names."

Instantly hordes of Saiyans bent down on their right knee, loyal beyond doubt and raised their closed fists of their right hands to the left side of their chests.

But still some stood.

Strong warriors of old traditions and values, set in their ways, loyal to the King Vegeta and horrified at their young Prince's choice to go against all that he was supposed to stand for in the name of a common, alien whore. There was no greater shame than that.

"You foolish, bereft oafs." It was Nappa's loud growling that had every eye in the landing bay turned to him.

Nappa stepped forward and pulled out the large armour he always war. Tossing it carelessly onto the ground and kicking up sand in its wake. Bulma watched as he clenched his ham sized fists purposely at the crowd before them and she felt a surge of pride towards Nappa rush forward. Her first ounce of real liking for the giant.

When Nappa spoke again, his voice was gruff and demanding but so filled with belief and faith that Bulma could only stare in wide eyed fascination. "I have been a Saiyan general for decades now. There is not a person alive who does not know of me and how hard we have fought to come to where we are. Through the Tsufur-jin war and many others we stand strong."

Bulma stared in awe as Vegeta directed a pleased smirk at Nappa's speech. She would never have thought the big brute to be so vociferous and sensible. So eloquent. His words loud and unwavering, like a politician's, and immediately there were whispers in the crowd that remained standing.

"Fight not because the King has lost his favourite whore, but because the Prince was strong enough to take what was once the King's. As Prince Vegeta will rise to seize all else." Bulma felt no ire at Nappa's words, like a legislator, selling half truths and full lies were imperative. "Our Prince, who was born to one day surpass the current King stands before you now while your King conceals his tail behind _your_ strength and his stone walls. Well here we are Saiyan warriors, today is the day. Stand back and give Prince Vegeta the opportunity to fight honourably." Shocked murmuring broke out but Nappa continued. "Pledge your alliance to your future King as he steps forward to challenge the current King."

All around people started to talk more noisily then, their doubts becoming louder and louder as they wondered who they should stand for and who to stand against. King Vegeta was not an unjust King, Bulma weighed the situation in her own mind. He was not even an unkind man in his world. He was a fair King who did not rule with fear and pomposity. He had worked for and earned his respect; it was just unfortunate that he was the King and not the Prince. She felt irony at that thought.

"All hail Prince Vegeta." Napa shouted and raised a fist in the air after thumping it against the left side of his chest. He turned to offer Vegeta a smug smile. "All hail – fuck … " Nappa's words were cut off as a hand immerged from a hole in his chest.

Bulma screamed as blood splattered everywhere and Vegeta instinctively pushed her behind him. She felt the tension radiating off of Vegeta in waves. The silence that immediately paused the loud chants and cheers only moments ago, between so many people gathered together was deafening, until the King broke it.

"How touching." He whispered with a disgusted sneer and Bulma was unsure how much of it he had witnessed. By the blotchy shades of puce on his face, she hazarded a guess at much of it. He roared as he pulled out Nappa's still beating heart from the giant's chest and held it high in the air. "This is what awaits anyone who dares to defy me." He roared loudly so no one failed to hear his words and proceeded to fling the organ into the sands of his world before he stepped onto it.

The squish of the heart resounded throughout the still lands worse than an explosive bang, louder than any of the declarations and threats the King made and Bulma could almost hear the indecision in the ensuing silence amongst the people once again.

No one dared to breathe even.

"Father." Vegeta hissed through gritted teeth, nails digging through his thick gloves and into the palms of his hands. "I do not wish to do battle with you. I certainly do not think you wish to either." Vegeta left the underlying threat of his strength unspoken but his burning gaze left no doubt as to his meaning.

The King did not look pleased by his son's words yet he spoke calmly and loudly. "You have brought on shame and disrepute to the honourable house of Vegeta. I offer you a way out my son. Kill the woman and you may claim the title of rightful heir of Vegeta-sei and crown Prince once again."

Bulma's eyes widened as Vegeta turned around to look at directly at her. She could not help the fear that latched itself to her every nerve ending, burning into her veins and making the blood pump loudly in her ears as Vegeta's eyes glinted in the harsh sun of Vegeta-sei. Her skin heated and she was afraid that she would die, die from fear.

Die at Vegeta's hand as Izevel had died by Vejita.

It was not a matter of distrust; she had only hours ago witnessed a Vegeta from the past kill a woman whose soul resided within her. Of course Bulma was slightly terrified at her options.

This Vegeta however looked straight into her eyes, watching her intently and a small smirk formed at one corner of his lips. He obviously knew of her doubts and his mouth was arrogant and mocking. Even in tribulation she wanted to slap him and kiss him.

"No." He said simply, his gaze never wavering from hers and if Bulma had had any doubts before his fortitude swept them away like sand in a hurricane. They were the ones deigned to change the future, because they could. And they would. What they felt for each other surpassed everything else in the world. They were brave and courageous and Bulma knew that in all the time she had ducked and dived back on Earth, this was her moment. The moment the path of the noble had led her to. And she would not shy away from it, she would welcome it.

"Then you will die, son. I am still the King and these people are faithful to me alone." The King roared angrily and many Saiyans stood in a fighting stance.

Vegeta stepped almost imperceptibly closer towards Bulma but she felt no fear within her, only a sense of acceptance. After all, what was death when you were assured the presence of the one who mattered more to you than life itself.

When she had been younger, unencumbered by such silly things like fate and destiny and guardian angels and past souls she had never wanted to die. She had been afraid of the unknown. Not anymore though. She had grown so much in the year she had been on Vegeta-sei than the two decades she had spent on her home planet. She had become who she was always meant to be.

She knew it would be more difficult for Vegeta to accept, he was still missing all the facts but she had gotten her wish. She had seen him one last time, held him and kissed him. Even though her time had been short, she had satisfied her heart and soul. Even the edges that were broken and jagged, which did not belong to her.

Bulma took in a deep breath as she took in Vegeta one last time. Regal and proud, the unique flame shaped hair and the girth of his strong shoulders. She memorised ever angle and curve of his handsome face and the sculptured body, especially the curve of his backside. Bulma allowed herself a small smile as she gently closed her eyes and breathed in the clean but spicy scent of Vegeta that surrounded her like a blanket on a cold winter's night.

Then she took a step back from it all.

Instantly Saiyans surrounded them. Vegeta turned back to look at her and she knew, she knew that he wanted to keep her safe. He turned quickly from mid stride, leaving the launch on his father to shield her. His ki blasted from him in waves and pushed at every being near them.

It was chaos. Untamed and wild. Barbarians raging against each other if they were not directly attacking their Prince and Bulma wondered how anyone could win such a battle. Vegeta could not fight forever. He was fighting at too high a speed and intensity to keep going. He would wear himself out long before the droves of men were beaten.

She peeped through eyes scrunched shut as the King floated in mid air to avoid being caught in the midst of a war and watched with fierce eyes. He had planned this. He had always been uncertain of Nappa's loyalty and he had foreseen the possibility of Nappa's deflection from him.

She assumed that for his pride he wanted Vegeta to be the one to kill her. That was the best punishment for her and Vegeta both. It was cold and cruel and would callously rip into them, causing undiluted pain and suffering to curdle from their once pure and fresh emotions. The king knew this of course. And if he could not have that, then they would suffer apart until he could kill them together.

"Vegeta." Bulma called his name one last time as she was forcefully dragged back.

Vegeta looked up at her like the crazed warrior he was, his eyes almost blood red and the electric blue ki around him crackled like burning flames. He flew towards her at lightning speed but she never saw him approach her. Masses of warriors appeared before her, separating her from Vegeta and the battle raged on.

Vegeta was fighting off hundreds of Saiyans, his own kind … for her.

She had no doubt in her mind that he would win, yet it was hopeless she knew. It was time to turn the tables around on the King.

* * *

"Bulma." Puella gasped as the brown skinned angel took the frail girl from the soldiers who had flown her to the castle.

Puella had been surprised to learn that the King had been given memories of the past as well but she was not allowed to intervene. She had her orders from higher authority and who was she to argue with the Gods. Puella's duty was to ensure that everything finally came to an end.

"Puella." Bulma gave a sad smile; blood that was not hers spattered everywhere.

"Keep her here until the King requests for her." A soldier spoke harshly, with clear fear in his harried voice, before returning to the fight and just like that Bulma knew she had been right. The King intended to punish Vegeta and her for all he was worth.

"He's fighting them all for me." Bulma sobbed and she held onto Puella tightly. The angel ran her fingers through Bulma's hair and gently shushed her as she cradled the Earthling in her arms.

"I will draw you a bath." Puella suggested and led Bulma somewhat forcefully into the large bathroom.

Bulma knew that Vegeta would have had to make the choice freely to save her and he had. He had gone against everything he had once believed in and cared for because of her. That meant that he had already fulfilled half of his destiny.

She knew he had another half to go and she would help him along with it. Because she would not allow him to do it on his own. They would end it together.

She sat in her large stone bath, refusing to remove her dirty gown from her body, inhaling the fragrances of her scented water as Puella washed the blood from her face. Bulma reached out and held tightly onto one of Puella's hands. The angel stopped her ministrations and looked sadly and questioningly at Bulma.

"Show me." Bulma whispered as she allowed the tears to flow unashamedly from her sorrowful blue eyes. "Show me a life where Vegeta and I are happy together."

In the dim glow of soft candlelight Bulma thought she saw Puella's eyes mist over but it could have been the hazy steam from her tub. The mud skinned angel nodded. "Close your eyes then." She whispered and Bulma let her eyelids droop without further deliberation.

Bulma felt Puella cover the hand that was holding hers with her other palm and Bulma immediately arched back in the tub as her entire body reverberated with the sensation of moving through time and space. In reality only her mind ventured through those mystical portals.

_When _Bulma_ opened _her_ eyes again _she_ saw herself – another _her_ – leaning over Vegeta's shoulder as he read something on an expensive looking, wide desk. The air around the couple was easy and intimate. There was no awkwardness and discomfort contiguous to them._

Bulma_ turned around in the room to take in _her_ surroundings and _her_ heart jumped in excitement as _she_ saw familiar shelves holding books _she_ had once read. During a time when _she_ had been so young and innocent. _She_ knew instantly that _she_ was on Earth, back in _her_ study, in _her_ own home and _Bulma_ felt tears of joy and yearning fall down _her_ cheeks as _she_ let out a happy squeal. Of course the pair in the room was oblivious to _her_ inexplicable presence there._

"_Mom, dad." _Bulma_ turned around as a little boy with lavender hair burst through the door, excitement clear on his face._

"_Trunks, how many times have I told you about knocking?"_

_Trunks._ Bulma_ thought as_ she_ walked towards the little boy. _She_ saw the sheepish grin he gave _her_ counterpart and _Bulma_ sank down to _her_ knees. _She_ reached out towards the boy and trailed shaky fingers gently over his face. His eyes were blue like _hers_, his hair the same shade of lavender _hers_ had been as a child's but his faces was his father's. Vegeta's._

"_I know mom, but I just couldn't wait any longer to hear what you and dad had to say." The little boy's voice was confident and excited. He was clearly secure and loved._

Bulma_ pressed _her_ lips together to hold back the sob that was ready to break free form _her_ heart when _she_ realised that it was no longer _her_ hand on Trunks' face._ She_ frowned in confusion but noticed that the Bulma of this time was also on her knees, her hand also caressing Trunks' face as _she_ was. As if they were both one. _

Bulma _felt pure pleasure burst inside of_ her_ heart as it felt like the little boy was feeling _her_ touch as well as his own mother's. "We're proud of you." The other blue haired woman said and _Bulma_ could tell it came from the bottom of her heart. Unable to take anymore of the unruly mix of happiness for _her_ other self and sadness for the life _she_ would never have, _Bulma_ closed her eyes and cried._

"_Urgh. You are such an egotistical, megalomaniac!"_

Bulma_ opened _her_ eyes as_ she_ heard herself – the other her – shriek and when _she_ turned around _she_ saw another version of _herself_. This one was dressed in similar gowns to the one _she_ had worn on Vegeta-sei._ Bulma_ quickly turned to find a window so _she_ could get an inkling of where _she_ was. _

She_ felt trepidation at the sight before _her_, unsure what to expect in this realm._

"_You are a loud mouthed wench who does not know her place." Vegeta growled and_ Bulma's_ heart panicked. _

She_ watched as_ her_ counterpart glowered at this time's Vegeta. There noses were touching. "You are an absolute jerk and I have no idea why I married you."_

Bulma_ gasped in surprise but_ she_ was unsure if it came from _herself _or the other _her_, for Vegeta had just grabbed _her_ counterpart and kissed that Bulma. He did so with such passion it was easy to see why their fights never amounted to anything more than generous foreplay. They were both intelligent enough to work out their issues at a later time, when they were more calm and rational. As _Bulma_ witnessed from a flash of a later vision, the couple lay satiated and peaceful moments later. The other _her_ resting her head on Vegeta's chest as he idly played with the ends of her long blue tresses._

Bulma_ smiled as _her_ counterpart's dress flew at _her_ face from Vegeta's impatient ripping and when _Bulma _pulled it down _she_ found herself in a completely different place. A thick, red curtain blocked soft whisperers from view. _

She_ sneaked through and looked in surprise at a bloody and worn out Vegeta standing next to another version of _herself_. His clothes were torn and tattered as he stood proudly next to a fatigued and wan looking Bulma. _Her_ eyes widened as _she_ watched herself hand over a tiny bundle to Vegeta. The absolute uncertainty but determination and concentration he used to take the baby in his arms astounded _her_. _

Bulma_ walked around quickly to get a better view of the child and noticed a tuft of blue hair peaking up from the red wrappings. When the little babe opened big eyes, the blue of it entranced not only _her_ but the Saiyan himself._ She_ felt tears pool in _her_ own blue eyes as_ she_ noticed the look of pure pride on Vegeta's face._ She_ lifted a delicate hand and caressed his cheek._

She_ watched as he closed his eyes but realised it was not really _her_ hand on his face but the Bulma of his time. It was as if _her_ hand went straight through and combined with Bulma's hand as she caressed her Saiyans face, the ring clearly visible on her hand._

Bulma_ quickly moved _her_ hand as a child – another Trunks_ she_ was sure – burst though the doors, uncertainty in his blue eyes and worry etched on his small face. _

"_Come here." His mother called out and _Bulma_watched as he gave her a huge grin and scrambled over onto the bed. _

_That Bulma cuddled him close to her and introduced him to his sister. It was only when she was asleep with Trunks curled at her side and the baby girl securely placed on her chest did _Bulma_ bend down to kiss _her_ counterpart well. When _she_ opened her eyes and moved back _she_ noticed that Vegeta's face was still near his wife's, his lips pressed against her cheek. _

Bulma_ smiled, not only at the secret, rare display of emotion from Vegeta, but at the fact that these people could feel the love and hope _she_ had for them._

When Bulma opened her eyes in her stone tub again she stared at Puella, whose eyes were watching her intently, with gratitude and appreciation. Even though sadness was etched in her gaze. "Thank you." Bulma's voice was husky and raw with emotion. "For showing me the happier times."

Surely there were times, like the ones she was fighting through now, when she and Vegeta would not be as fortunate as the other three she had seen. However, just knowing there were so many wonderful moments for her other selves, left Bulma feeling incongruously relieved. Light.

Puella shook her head. "With the selfless sacrifice you and Vegeta are making Bulma, there can be only happy times for your other selves. Regardless of how much your counterparts go through, they will always find a way to each other."

Bulma gave a small smile, it definitely was utilitarianism. "One for all?"

Puella reached out and touched Bulma's cheek affectionately. "Something like that."

"I'm ready."

Puella stared at Bulma for a very long time. The angel understood her words clearly but there was still doubt. "You do not have to do this, Bulma. You know that."

Bulma smiled. "I know. Vegeta is already so enamoured by me that he chose me over his father but I feel the same way about him. It's not even about the bond; it's the fact that I know even without it we're meant to be. He's my all."

Puella nodded but looked to protest. Bulma cut her off. "I want to be with him. Always. I'm giving every other me a chance to be with their Vegeta's and I want the same. We want to be with one another too. Regardless of how or where."

Bulma looked pleadingly at Puella and the angel stared at her. "I can see how absolutely indomitable you are. Unwavering conviction such as this truly is rare. You and Vegeta certainly brought to life the trueness and depth of a love beyond everything, including reason at times. With a story that had no hope of such profundity. You have overcome the deprivation that Izevel and Vejita formed; created a something so complete, that not even with the legend of their love story could they manage."

Bulma gave a rare smile, the ones only Vegeta could conjure from her now as she moved her free hand sharply across the hand held strongly by Puella, a sharp intake of breath immediately forming ice into her chest.

"That's because this isn't exactly _love_, Puella. Vegeta and I, we transcend the boundaries of ordinary and normal, don't we." A small chuckle escaped her blue lips. Tears streamed down her face.

"The alien prince and the damsel in distress. Fairy tales aren't even made of this." The water around her turned crimson. Her face became ashen.

"With the pain of a past and no other reasoning we still _became_." Bulma's eyes drooped in a manner that would be forever, but her lips still smiled. "All because we were, we _are_ always meant to be."

The last words slipped from Bulma's blue lips in dying whispers as the once alive and vibrant woman slipped beneath the flood of water and blood in the tub. The last of her life flashing like the ripples that made circled patterns above the surface.

Puella gently let go of the hand Bulma had ripped into while she had made Puella hold onto it to ensure the veins that she cut open, spattered blood everywhere. Focusing her mind on acceptance while she spoke to forget that she was killing herself. Bulma did not want to watch the life spill from her, but she knew it was happening.

Pure love for her charge trailed down Puella's cheeks and mixed with the blood that had spurted from Bulma's hand to her face. Puella remembered the first time Bulma had tried to kill herself; the girl had thought that she had needed to be strong to end her own life. She was half right. Bulma had been strong, but maybe not tough enough. Now, Vegeta had given her that courage.

Vegeta.

Puella closed her eyes in pain and gently left Bulma's hand hanging off the end of the tub so it would not be missed. Sending a thought to Vegeta, Puella sighed gravely.

"We're almost there." Then the angel disappeared into nothing but air, heavy with death and despair.

* * *

He turned around in the direction of the castle as he heard Bulma call to him. But surely he would not be able to hear her from way out here. He knew though, he knew what it meant; only he refused to believe it.

With an angry cry his ki flared around him and mounds of soldiers were pushed away from him with the intensity of his attack. All the while his father stood above them and watched. Did the old man really think he was going to go back to serving the crown? Never.

Uncaring about his fight Vegeta kicked off the ground and blasted off towards the castle. Unaware that his father had called back the Saiyan warriors with the order to stand down. Vegeta flew to the familiar window he had become so accustomed to of late and kicked it open. He could not hear anything past the heavy beating of his heart.

"Bulma?" He called out almost desperately.

There was a fast becoming emptiness in his chest and he knew. He knew without a sliver of doubt that she had left him.

He sped to her bathroom, one of her favourite places in her chambers, after searching her rooms proved futile and the cut that still slowly oozed blood from a dangling hand made Vegeta stare in disbelief. Immobilised. Slowly, he crouched down on his knees and heaved Bulma out from the tub.

Watered blood spilled against him, the smell so inescapable to him. How many times had he slaughtered and killed people? How often had he rubbed the blood of his enemy on his face in victory? Yet the sight of one weak woman's spilt blood sent him into a fit of rage and wrongness.

"No." He whispered as he held her lifeless body to his chest. His nose finding her scent even in her wet tresses.

This was what it felt like to be sad. The first time he felt the alien emotion. It slivered from his eyes and down his high cheekbones, the heat of it fuelling his anger. This was what tears were like. Where it came from he knew not because he felt cold and dead inside.

"_No!"_ Vegeta screamed as he rocked back on his knees.

The empty spaces within himself were being filled with a burning rage so bright it threatened to blind him. The very foundations of the castle began to shudder. Energy that was a violent purple started to flow from him. Such power was untamed and unknown. He did not know of its home nor if he could master it.

He gave in to the abyss of emotions both old and new, his and another's. He drew from the well of power that belonged to him and an ancestor of might from a past not entirely of his on. He died with the death of his lover and was reborn within the magnitude of the power being unleashed from within the very depths of him.

He would be unstoppable. He would conquer them all. He _would_ make them all pay.

"Vegeta."

He growled loudly as the screams echoed around him and then suddenly he felt as if cold water was poured over the intensity of burning flames around him. His arms snapped back with an invisible force and the ki around him started to disintegrate rapidly. Without his hold on Bulma she slid from his lap and skidded across the room with the remnants of his last ki.

"Bulma." He instantly released the insurmountable energy within him again, reigniting the bitter emotions inside of him and gave them free reign, and he scrambled like a pauper towards her body as if she were last morsels of food to a dying man.

It was then that he realised, without his title, his pride, his blood and tail, that he was her. He was weak and fallible and he hated it. She was gone. He could not wrap his mind around it. He was the Saiyan Prince. Who would dare to take something that was his away from him?

"Vegeta?" The Saiyan Prince looked up to see the third class, Bardock standing poised above Vegeta, emitting a glow that radiated from himself as if he was a legendary warrior. "Come here, son."

"I am not your fucking son." Vegeta growled in a deadly voice.

The smirk that he offered Vegeta had the Prince standing up on shaky legs. He was bruised and broken, some bones were jutting out form charred flesh, blood poured from open wounds and he knew without a doubt the exertion of his little power trip now had left him helpless. He was almost dead on his feet.

Almost.

"I can take the pain away with reason."

Could Bardock, the Saiyan medic really?

* * *

Vegeta landed in the main arena where in another time, Izevel had been burned alive by the very soul that rested within him.

This was where it would all come to an end.

It was like coming full circle that he now had all the facts. He had contemplated running from it, fighting it but as Bardock had so callously reminded him, that was why Bulma had did what she had done. Gave up her life for the cause.

She had made her choice and she expected no less from him. He would have damned her if she was still alive but he knew that was a lie. He would have taken her away with him and fought tooth and nail to keep them alive. To keep them as one.

He saw what she wanted him to see though. That petty happiness of the others he really didn't care for. Why should he fight for them when he was burdened with someone else's sins? Then again that was what Bulma was all about.

Doing what was right for everyone even before she did what was best for herself. If she could give all of her for all whom she loved then what did it matter how he felt on the matter. He could have so easily, undoubtedly blamed the fact that she did not trust him enough, rue the day he had met her even, claim that she had not cared about him enough but he knew he couldn't.

Because he had seen it all. Seen what she had sacrificed, given up to come here with Raditz, even when he had given her the choice to leave, she knew full well that she was not the one who had needed to die but she had stayed. For him. To help him make the right decision. Right. He mentally scoffed. It was utter tripe to him. And he knew now why he had never ever made the right decision before.

"Were you really going to let me live if I killed her, father?" Vegeta questioned.

The King shrugged nonchalantly, eyeing his weary son with mild interest. Vegeta knew he was sizing him up, ensuring the possibility of a win was certain for him. "Perhaps. If you showed enough remorse."

Vegeta had never felt this much hatred towards the King before, even when the Saiyan had killed his own mother. The attachment had not been needed. Many would ask what made such a cold and arguably despicable Saiyan change then and all he could think of was blue.

"Is this enough remorse for you, _father_?" Vegeta asked with mock arrogance as he crouched into a fighting stance.

There wasn't much time before the King lashed at him. Vegeta was barely able to keep up with the blows then. He was fast losing and he knew this, but for the first time, he did not care.

Death was easy.

That was what Vegeta thought as he gave a humourless chuckle through swollen lips. The wheezy sound passed through a mouth where many teeth were missing. He closed his heavy lids, rimmed black and blue from strong fists and took in a deep breath. It hurt to breathe, he was certain his lungs were punctured from his broken ribs. He knew if he did not get into a regen tank this instant, he would die.

His latest enemy was merciless. A brute who took betrayal to his cold, bitter, blackened heart. His father …

"She preferred me so much more than she did you, father." Vegeta's chuckles turned into wracking coughs as blood clogged his throat. He would persevere though. So he swallowed the metallic taste of his own blood and the thick bile clumped there, pushing words from his lips.

"Shut up!" The King roared. His loud booming voice laced with so much bitter anger and volumes of rage …

"Do it." Vegeta dared as his onyx eyes whirred with the memories that were playing in his father's eyes. He would die with those very thoughts on his mind and one word on his lips.

_Bulma_

The way she looked in the darkness of the highest tower with nothing but moonlight highlighting the emotions on her beautiful face. The coy looks she gave him through hooded lids before she reached out and touched him. The way her mouth rounded when she was on the verge of climaxing from his assault. Her eyes gleaming with joy from his actions or words. The feel of her lips on his as sensations of unfathomable emotions passed through their connected flesh and into the depth of his very dark being, casting light into every nook and cranny there. Exposing him to her in luminosity he had never been viewed in before.

The King raised his fist to deliver the final blow and Vegeta saw the ki form in his father's large hand.

Yet all he could think about was Bulma. Her body weightless and light as a feather in his arms. Deceased in his embrace. Blood staining her being, the colour marring her silky blue hair. She was dead.

Dead.

He could hold it in no longer then. The last thing he saw before unleashing the raw power inside of him was his father's widening eyes. He would damn them all as they had done to him and his Bulma.

A scream ripped from his chest and bellowed through his throat and it was like the cry of the harbinger of death and destruction. It caused his ki to ripple out from him and the adulterated energy it possessed obliterated everyone in its wake.

Starting with the Saiyan King.

It was the life essence of a Vegeta from the past and a Vegeta of the present. It was the hopes that Bulma had left upon his shoulders for every other Vegeta in the Universes, including the ones still to come. It was the Prince of all Saiyans fulfilling his destiny in this time.

"_I, an old Angel chosen to forfeit thy immortal life for the power of love hereby declare my soul an everlasting gift to fate. And there will come a day where fate will intervene and love will rise to conquer these brute forces that know you not. Every Vejita will know only servitude on these mortal plains until one of your own sons learn true, unconditional love …"_

"… _by sacrificing his very being; mind heart and soul for my own."_

Izevel's last words resonated within the Saiyan Prince just as the red ball called Vegeta-sei exploded into embers of red against black velvet space.

It was one chosen Vegeta … breaking the curse.

* * *

"_Come for me." She said simply and all he could do was nod._

He stepped from within the shadows and there she was waiting for him as she said she would be. Her lids were closed and it reminded him of the very first time he had ever laid eyes upon her.

This time however her face turned towards his with his approach and she smiled. Such a pure untainted smile. Her hair was almost glowing around her and her skin was smooth and unburdened by lines of worry and distress. Flawless.

He watched her with his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread shoulder length apart, even though they itched to grab her and bring her to him. To feel her warmth again. She opened one eye and peaked at him playfully and he felt free, finally seeing the enchanting blueness again.

"You did it." She told him proudly, standing up slowly. He noticed she was not wearing the dresses she had normally worn on Vegeta-sei but an odd ensemble of garments.

"Did you doubt me?" He asked gruffly.

She smiled then and noticed his eyes on her clothes. She did not bother with a reply because they both knew the answer to his question. "Do you like it?" She gave him a playful smile and twirled around like a ballerina for him.

"You waited." He asked then, more to ignore giving a reply to her question, yet his smouldering black eyes took in every inch of her body and told her all she needed to know.

She cocked her head to her side and watched him. Raising a perfectly shaped, blue eyebrow she asked, "Any doubts?"

He smirked at her, one that slowly turned into a feral grin and before he knew it she jumped towards him at the same moment he put his hands down and landed safely in his arms. Where she belonged. He held onto her with all of him, without the strength to break her of course.

Here, they were untouched, pure like the white snow that covered every inch of land around them. Even with the faint sunlight spreading abnormal amounts of radiance upon them, blending into them as if they were light incarnate, he knew then that they would never be cold or go without anything because in his arms, he had all he need.

**`The End`**

* * *

**Author's Note:**Please don't kill me, at least they ended up together right?! And they're finally happy too. I think Bulma and Vegeta deserved the peace really.

Alright, so a couple of things; first I always knew Bulma and Vegeta were going to die here, from the prologue if you could tell, although I admit that I intended for their souls to go into another Bulma and Vegeta that were happier in another time. However I thought that would not break the curse completely as they still had Izevel and Vejita's souls inside of them. That would have made for the poor Bulma and Vegeta they travelled into to have three many souls (three many, get it, too many … ah well, I never was that funny).

Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this and I thank all those who took the time to read and review, your thoughts kept me so encouraged and motivated and I say that it is you guys that make the story, not me. So my humble appreciation to all you wonderful readers.

I still have some ways to go in the BV fandom so there'll be more writing on our favourite DBZ couple to come from me.

Again, thank you all!

Nova*


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